Home Tutor Syndrome!
by samehime345
Summary: Sawada Tsunayoshi, who has eight-grade syndrome, was chosen as the next heir of Vongola! Reborn needs to train this delusional kid to be the next boss... However, it seems like Tsuna's "autism" could be an advantage to Vongola.. And so the hilarious ride begins! Please R
1. Bearer of Flames! Down!

_Background of Eight Grade Syndrome: it was a mental state occured in Japan. Psychologist stated it was the cause of puberty. Eight grade syndrome can leads someone who thinks that they are different from the others- which results them acting as if they are an anime/manga characters and set up their own social barrier towards society._

_Eight year syndrome is real in Japan guys, I'm not making shit up. For your information, this was inspired from Chuunibyou anime. No hates.._

* * *

According to the universal survey, parents from all over the world agreed by this statement:

'_One of the hardest things of being a parent is seeing their children grow up.'_

Everyone couldn't have agreed more, for it was undoubtedly true.

As children's age matured from year to year, their personality changed too—they lied, stopped listening, and being seen with their parents on public brought a flush to their cheeks. Sometimes, parents can't even tell if they were their children anymore—for their sons or daughters have turned into something different, as if they were a brand new person.

But of course, parents couldn't do anything about it. It was inevitable. Everyone had gone through that stage in his or her lives –the stage of adolescence, so it was no surprise. The cycle passed on that it became a tradition….

But the parents of Sawada Tsunayoshi seemed to have the hardest time.

Tsuna was supposed to be doing his homework—his English book laid across his study desk, waiting to be touched. Instead, the brunette was hanging on his drawers, scooping up random items—an old sprinkler, can opener, and a bunch of enigmatic antique displays; he scattered them across the room.

"Tsu-kun!" his mother's voice echoed at the distance. "Are you done with your homework?"

Tsuna swept his gaze to the door in an alarming manner. The brunette got to his knees, tossed the English book to his bag and laid himself in the middle of the mess on the floor.

Nana Sawada walked in, sighed inwardly, hands on her hips. "Tsu-kun, have you done your homework? What are you doing on the floor?"

"Mom!" Tsuna jerked to his sitting position and pointed towards the window. "They had come!"

"They?" Nana's eyes rolled slightly, looked unimpressed.

"The organization that tried to steal the _fire codex!_" Tsuna said. "Get out mom! Or else you will be caught up in the mess!"

"Oh, I appreciate the concern." Nana chuckled mildly. "So, is this organization is your excuse to not do your homework?"

"Screw the homework mom! If they come and attack, everything will be blown into pieces!"

Tsuna strolled to his drawers and took more of his peculiar possessions out— a magical crystal ball; he called it, which was just a plastic, transparent ball Tsuna had purchased on the toys store on Christmas' sale.

"I find it! The codex is inside!" Tsuna sighed in relief, particularly talking to no one. "Now I need to make this thing disappear from the enemy's radar…."

Nana was about to talk her sense to her son until the doorbell buzzed. She clicked her tongues in irritation and slammed the door shut behind her. It was unusual to see Nana Sawada upset –she was a kind, cheerful and outgoing mother for her age, but she was at her limit –especially when her son went on about his eight grade syndrome delusions.

While the elder woman was greeting her husband, Tsuna was pouring the water from his sprinkler to the crystal ball, and he shouted victoriously.

"Yes! At this rate the organization will not be able to find the codex! I have saved the Sawada Household once again!"

Nana held the urge to cry. She turned to her husband, anxiety was written all over her face. "Dear, what should we do? We have called him the fifth psychologist the other day and it doesn't work on him!"

To her surprise, Iemitsu stroke Nana's hair confidently and grinned cheekily.

"Don't worry, I have found someone who can help our son! He was recommended by _my boss._"

* * *

The day after:

"Tsuna…" Iemitsu called his son, head tilted to the stairs. "Come down son, we need to talk."

Tsuna obeyed. The brunette descended, and grinned when his eyes fell to his father. Iemitsu didn't stayed at home often, and Tsuna had come to miss his presence.

"Welcome home, dad!" Tsuna greeted him. "So you are back after challenging the final boss on the last dungeon!"

Iemitsu smiled awkwardly. Tsuna must've meant that he was back for work, whatever; Iemitsu was better at tolerating Tsuna's random bickering than his wife does –he found it amusing, sometimes.

"Tsuna, from today, a new home tutor will be attending you."

"Eh? You mean another one of those espers who were able to influence one being to another being's realm by listening from both sides?"

In Tsuna's language—the psychologist.

"No a home tutor…not another psychologist expert." Iemitsu scratched his head, sighing. "Fine I will speak in your terms –a skilled expert, your master, is going to train you to become the fire warrior."

"You mean my shufu?"

"Yes, your shufu." Iemitsu groaned inwardly.

"But I don't need a shufu!" Tsuna protested. "I am already strong myself! I have been fighting overseers from the organization for fourteen years—"

"But you see…" Iemitsu looked deeply into his son's eyes. "The organization is going to get stronger. They will be back with more followers on their side. They will not sit still for fourteen years of loss, Tsuna…"

Hearing his father, Tsuna contemplated on his father's words. Good, he fell for it.

"Then, I will wait for his arrival." Tsuna said it formally, and he bowed before he departs. "Thank you for the vital information, father."

With that, Tsuna bolted to his room.

As Tsuna was out of sight, Iemitsu sank to his knees in relief. "Damn it…talking like that was so tiring…"

"That's my husband!" Nana teased him. "You're so good at it that I got creeped out for a second…"

Iemitsu sweat dropped. His eight-grade syndrome act was really perfect that even his wife got creeped out. But, he credited himself for being able to pull that off. "I see…."

* * *

That afternoon, a light knock intruded the Sawada household. Nana immediately attended the guest and saw a little baby—huge eyes, with a tuxedo and a green chameleon hanging on its huge hat.

"You must be Reborn-san!" Nana sunk to her knees in order to face-to-face with the baby.

"My name is, Home Tutor Hitman Reborn!" the baby spoke formally to Nana's surprise. "I was assigned here by the ninth to make your son as the next boss of the Vongol—"

"Ah! Hello Reborn! Nice to meet you!" Iemitsu cuts it before Reborn could go further to confuse his bewildered wife.

"Iemitsu! Then ma'am, can I talk with your husband in private for a minute? This is important."

Surprised how a little baby could be so smooth with words, Nana nodded and left the boys on their own. "Then I will be making the tea."

As the woman left, Iemitsu told Reborn about Tsuna's condition—who was currently unable to take the heir as the tenth boss of Vongola—one of the strongest mafia organization in Sicily; Reborn came here to deliver that fact.

"Well leave it to me!" Reborn said confidently. "I have trained someone similar like your son in the Cavallone family, so I am already used dealing with eight-year syndromes."

* * *

"Tsu-kun!" Tsuna heard the familiar knock on the door. "Your tutor has come."

Tsuna's gaze turned to the door, his drawer, the toys on the floor and the door again. He scooped up the messy items and threw them all inside his drawer. Seemed like he's cleaning up, but actually Tsuna was taking a new set of toys and scatter them on the floor again—old white gloves, a torchlight and a set of marbles.

"My shufu has come…" Tsuna whispered huskily to himself. "I will get stronger…and I will be able to fight the organization!"

Tsuna smoothed the gloves to his arms, put the marbles in his pocket and held the torchlight between his fingers. He opened the door, and expected an old, beardy man with sharp-asian eyes to be his new 'tutor' as what the commoners called it –like the one in Kung Fu Panda.

But there was nobody to be found.

"Shufu!" he yelled. "Where are you?"

. . . . .

"I am here, dame-Tsuna." A voice from below was found.

"Hieee!" Tsuna jerked and saw a little baby in tuxedo was looking deeply at him. His eyes were pure black, as if it was looking into the blackness, and it reminded Tsuna of the alien race in one of his video games.

"Oh my god! Dad was right! The organization was sending an alien from the outer realm and disguise as my shufu!"

"Shut up dame-Tsuna." Reborn kicked Tsuna's leg, and left the brunette cried in irritation. Despite his small feet, it has the power of five horses. "I am your _shufu_."

"You're lying…" Tsuna winced. "You're just another one of those disguisers in the organization! I wouldn't fall for your trick!"

Tsuna sidestepped and do a certain pose –when superheroes were about to unleash a particular move. He smoothed his fingers, switched the torch light on and placed the marble in front of his right eye. He chanted.

"I am the Bearer of the Flames. In the name of the sky, I banish you out of this world and send you to hell. May the god of the flames gave you mercy for your treacherous act—"

"That's enough, dame Tsuna." Reborn slapped Tsuna's cheeks and send the boy flying and crashed against the wall. Tsuna winced; it was twice painful than being slapped by her mother or hit by a baseball bat combined. Who the hell is this baby? Why does he have strength of a professional hitman?

Hitman…..?

"You sure have good imaginations for an eight grade syndrome." Reborn smirked, amused. "And I have good news for someone like you. That bullshit imagination of yours will be a huge help for the mafia."

"Ma…fi..a…" Tsuna tried to sit on the spot, yet he winced halfway. "What are you trying to comply, warrior from the overseers?"

"I don't belong in the overseers." Reborn played along, yet his voice was filled with interest and mild amusement, as if he enjoyed it. "I am a hitman from the Vongola Family."

Tsuna squinted curiously, shook his head. "Vongola family? From what part of the continent this organization comes from?"

"Italy, an existing country." Reborn said. "Not in Twinleaf Town or the Fairy Alley in your non-existent world."

Tsuna ignored him. "What are your motives for approaching the bearer of the flames, whom the god of the sky had summoned?"

Reborn smirked. He found Tsuna's weak point.

"The Vongola had recognized your power, Bearer of the Flames. The Vongola's enemy is the organization you've been blabbering about. Because of your recognition, the ninth Vongola boss wants you to take his place as the tenth Vongola boss. They entrust you to take out the organizati—"

"Wait wait wait!" Tsuna interrupted, to his surprise and Reborn, he sounded sober. "Are you trying to tell me the organization is real?"

"It does." Reborn said in a straight face. "Did you doubt it? I thought you've been fighting with the organization for fourteen years."

"No no, listen to me..." Tsuna said. "I have been having these eight-year delusions…and I view the world differently than anybody else. The things I do are infected by my mental state and sometimes for fun….but I never thought it actually exist!"

"It does." Reborn replied. "The Vongola have been fighting it for centuries. Unlike you, who took various toys and talk to the window as if it was coming."

"I thought it's just a mild prank…" Tsuna mumbled to himself.

"What is it? Where did your eight year delusions go? We need that imagination in the Vongola family."

"I don't really know this Vongola thing you're talking about." Tsuna rushed, words jumbled. "But let me tell you that all I've been doing in my life was just a harmless prank I done to myself. I don't mean to fight any organization or something like that…"

"Oh….you're scared now?"

Tsuna's stomach sank. In his entire life, he had been the Bearer of the Flames, the man who will face the overseers from the organization and protect the world with his hands. He was known as the highest rank out of all bearers, and has many friends on his side. He had risked his life, family, money to build the ultimate weapon to fight the organization and swore to defeat it at all cost….

But that's all just his fantasy! His eight year syndrome delusions—purely sub conscious!

The organization isn't real, bearers of the flames existed in myths, he didn't risk anything but wasting his money on enigmatic junk, and he failed all his tests at school and has no friends.

And here a baby from the unknown who was supposed to be his shufu to train the organization, no—a home tutor, a hitman, who will train the useless, eight year syndrome victim Tsuna, to be the tenth boss of the Vongola family to fight the organization. At first he thought Vongola was the name of pasta—a snack that will boost his energy by half during the battle with the organization in the evening, but now it was different.

Vongola was real. The real deal.

That means Tsuna has to fight, shed blood, and go against the overseers, no—people in the organization and fight them alongside Vongola. Not to mention, Tsuna, was the boss, the leader of the Vongola—who will coordinate the squad and commerce them into operation plans…

Tsuna cried.

It was impossible!

"That's it…" Tsuna muttered. "I will try to counter my eight grade syndrome. Reborn, now I am not someone with high fantasies…so leave me be…"

Reborn smirked and strolled out of the room. "We'll see."

And he left, while Tsuna could only think how cowardly he was.

Since when being an eight grade syndrome victim was dangerous? The question is, if kids who dream of fighting a certain group with magical powers, will they accept it in reality? It seemed cool with all the magic powers, costumes and fighting and all…

But it was a horrible fate. You fight, got hurt, meet friends, betrayed, fight more, has a high risk to die….

"No..no…it's scary…" Tsuna sobbed to himself.

As Tsuna ponder about his mental state, Reborn peered behind the door and smirked to himself.

"I can't believe I heal his eight year syndrome in a few sentence." Reborn thought. "But I won't have it healed…just yet."

* * *

Shufu: master in chinese (kung fu panda reference lol)

Please review^^ thanks~


	2. Smoking Bomb! Wait, what!

**A/N= okay okay...I didn't expect to receive a fairly decent amount of ratings for a first chapter ^^**

**I was very happy to know. Btw sorry if this chapter is kinda long and there are a few dragged on scenes...but its important so I include it in.**

**I'm working on my grammar-word choices and punctuation mostly...^^ so sorry if there is something you don't like in here ^^**

**Happy reading and please R&R^^**

* * *

Caramel eyes widened in exhaustion.

To Tsuna's surprise, he found himself curling under his blanket—that's right he remembered, he was so scared of the new shufu—tutor that had come to train him to be a mafia boss of the Vongola family to battle the organizations from the Overseers…

Wait..wait…slow down….Tsuna paused. Was it all just a dream? A little baby telling him that Tsuna has the power to battle the organization—the 'bearer of the flames' soon to be the heir of the Vongola family….

It sounded way too fantastic for an eight-grade syndrome imagination, but it was a different story when it comes to real life.

Tsuna slowly got into a sitting position, still on his bed, thinking about the accidents and the risk he'd take if he takes the position of this 'Vongola' family. Was Vongola even real? Is this little baby delusional like he was? Curiosity got him that Tsuna was willing to check it out….

His body was heavy as if the burden of the world was on his shoulders. As Tsuna steadily made his way to his computer desk, he stepped into a lego piece on the floor. The brunette winced;, stepping a lego was always more painful than stepping into a nail—sometimes—not to mention, Tsuna found it irritating how a small, plastic toy can aroused so much pain on his bigger foot. Tsuna groaned inwardly when he noticed his room was scattered with lego pieces, as if a huge wave of legos had crashed into his room.

That's right, these legos were _meant _to be disperse in his room, for they represent as diamonds and shards Tsuna could collect and exchange them for weapons to battle the organization…

. . . . .

Screw it. It was a long time ago.

Finally, Tsuna reached to his computer desk and switched the monitor on; he watched as the black screen went white and blinked back to his wallpaper of _Natsu Dragneel_. He narrowed the pointer on the screen to the browser and immediately googled—Vongola Family. A few seconds later, results popped up to the screen and Tsuna instinctively clicked the Wiki on top of the page of the first result…

When the page had finally opened for him, his orange beads ran through the black and blue letters of the first paragraph…

His eyes slowly widened...

Vongola was real.

Tsuna slumped on the chair as if a certain magical user from the overseers had stolen the mana from his body. Tsuna felt his eyes burning up with tears, spikes of needles planted on his skulls, and his heart was throbbing endlessly as if he was running in a race at the Olympics…

Everything was real. Tsuna cursed himself for his eight grade syndrome; why does he have to be so delusional? Well he could be delusional—it was fun nonetheless—but out of all the things he could've imagined, why it was the battle between the organization and Vongola? Not to mention, the Vongola family have been using 'flames' as their symbols; this tells Tsuna that his delusional stories of the 'bearer of the flames' and the organization was no coincidence…

It was fate, from the start. Tsuna's heart sank by the thought…

"It was real, baka-Tsuna." Reborn's voice suddenly found, speaking as if he read Tsuna's thoughts.

"Reborn!" Tsuna threw himself to the floor and begged his knees pleadingly. "Please! I don't want to be the mafia boss! I don't have the cuts for one! I don't have friends, I'm not as brave as Natsu and heck more powerful…"

"Natsu is Natsu. You are you, dame-Tsuna." Reborn muttered while reading Tsuna's shonen jump manga he'd took from the shelf. "Natsu deals with political mages, you deal with mafia. It doesn't make much difference, was it?"

"Reborn! Stop mixing the two together!" Tsuna yelled.

"What? Aren't you the one who mixed them together and rant about the shit of bearer of the flames even though you're just a wimp in reality?" Reborn said matter-of-factly without turning to Tsuna, black eyes glued on the manga before him.

Tsuna sweat dropped; Reborn's words were too blunt like an an arrow, coming from Pit from Icarus, stabbed his heart…

. . .

Never mind.

"By the way." Reborn put the manga away. "Pack up Tsuna. It's time for school."

"What the heck are you talking about?" Tsuna muttered rather sleepily. "It was Sunday, three in the afternoon, what am I supposed to?"

"You imbecile moron." Reborn said; Tsuna jerked by the harsh word coming from a baby. "You curled up in the bed for a day. Now is Monday, quick or else you will be late."

Tsuna scoffed bitterly by Reborn's response and nonchalantly turned to the clock—

….

Reborn was right.

In a flash, Tsuna tucked into his school uniform with a few struggles—mistaking his school blazers for pants, throwing all of the 'delusional' possession from his backpack and bolted downstairs to the front door.

"Mom! Dad! I will be going to school now! Bye!"

Before his mom responds, the brunette slammed the door shut abruptly. Dumbfounded expression was written on the mother's face, but it turned into a mild smile when Reborn bowed to greet his departure before closing the door behind him.

"Dear…" Nana found her voice in her throat. "It's the first time Tsuna doesn't say he was off to Hogwarts."

Hearing his wife's bewildered; yet flat tone, Iemitsu choked on his morning breakfast.

* * *

Reborn, as anyone expected, followed Tsuna to school. The brunette was jogging while mumbling 'I wish I have Sonic's shoes right now' or something along the line….Reborn thought that his delusion couldn't be anymore realistic.

"Oh yeah Tsuna," Reborn broke the silence, since he knew Tsuna won't talk to him anyway due to his likable presence by his delusional student. "There will be a new transfer student today."

Tsuna heard Reborn called him the first time without 'dame', so not responding to Reborn might be impolite. "So?" Transfer students are none of my concern." Tsuna said dryly. "And the heck do you know there will be a transfer student?"

"I am your shufu, Tsuna." Reborn replied. It was sarcasm.

"Yeah yeah whatever…" Tsuna mumbled. "I am Pou, you're the shufu…yeah yeah…you know everything…"

The house and his school was not very far to begin with, so Tsuna managed to make it just in time for his relief—thank goodness, Tsuna thought, the teacher won't give him the detention slip….until a threatening voice shattered his fantasy…

"You're almost late, herbivore." A raven-haired third year student snarled at the brunette; he was leaning against the school gate, and his gray, intimidating eyes narrowed. "Five more minutes and the class will start, don't you dare to be late again, or I will bite you to death."

As Tsuna yelped in fear and rushed to the classroom, the coal haired teenager was narrowing his sharp, deathly gaze at the brunette like a predator and its prey. He smirked. "That kid with the eight grade syndrome…. interesting."

As the teenager was about to take his leave, Reborn threw a piece of rock at his wake. The pebble flew passed him, yet it managed to slice a few strands of his hair. Obviously unhappy by the fact, the ill-tempered teenager took a silver tonfa from one of the many pockets in his jacket and set into a typical fighting pose.

* * *

As he placed his bag on the table at the back of the classroom, Tsuna sighed in relief. The homeroom teacher isn't here yet, students are still chirping around and the door was still open wide in a welcoming manner.

Tsuna, bored, leaned against the window of his classroom. His mind wandered—mafia, Reborn, Vongola, organization…it was all never a dream; it was real. Like it or not, he needed to set up reinforcements—he meant, he needed to take action to this mafia matter of else it will get him sooner than he thought. Not to mention, he doesn't have subordinates in his party conquest—friends, even if he has one, how will Tsuna explain the whole mafia and organization situation without freaking them out…?

Unless they were delusional too…like him.

"Yo Dame-Tsuna!" a few boys from the class approached to his table, smirking and giggling. "What kind of show will you put today? What will be the organization's next action?"

"Umm..ano—" Tsuna tried to cut. The word "organization" sank on his stomach—it was not a joke anymore.

"Oh my god, the organization reinforcements had come! Prepare the canon guys!" one of the boys imitated Tsuna's delusional acting. "Choo! Choo! And you start taking Nishikawa's water bottle and threw it towards the sky! Hahahahaha!"

"Please, the organization is real." Tsuna's tone was stern. "If you speak lightly of them, they might come and attack you."

But of course, the boys took it as a joke. "Oh look! The bearer of the flames seems scared now! What is it? Too hard to handle? Did your flame runs out, dame-Tsuna? Hahaahha!"

"Please, I'm not joking." Tsuna said rather desperately.

"Oh look at that act! He's acting like everything is serious! You're kidding right Tsuna, the sense in your head seemed to be lacking more than I thought!"

"Oh bearer of the flames!" one of the students begged down on Tsuna's feet while chuckling. "Please save us from salvation!"

The boys were giggling while Tsuna's cheeks were flushing. Calm Tsuna…this was normal. Tsuna had been always being bullied for his eight-grade delusion, for the first time in his life—Tsuna actually cared…

_His eight-grade syndrome has been a shield for reality huh…_

Suddenly, a familiar clapping hand echoed throughout the classroom and everybody assembled to their seat immediately.

"Today, we have a new transfer student." The homeroom teacher said formally. "He was from Italy…and his name was Gokudera Hayato."

A silver haired teen, dressed like delinquent—flashy accessories and the unfriendly look, sighed as he walked in to the room. The moment he walked in, the classroom was swept with murmurs—especially the girls, who were whispering and giggling how handsome the new kid was, despite the boys had come to fear him in first glance.

Gokudera's eyes suddenly shot to the brunette in the end of the classroom, Tsuna. To everyone's surprise, the silver haired teen run to Tsuna's table at an abnormal speed, and to Tsuna's dismay, kicked his table, hit his face, and sent the brunette across the floor.

"Gokudera Hayato!" the homeroom teacher yelled at the rude newbie. "Please behave yourself! Apologize to Sawada immediately! Sawada! Are you alright?"

Tsuna slowly got to his knees while moaning in pain; his foot was throbbing, and he believed it bleeds. A few other sympathetic students came to help Tsuna gained his footing.

"Oy Tsuna, did you know this guy?" one of the kind students whispered to Tsuna while lifting the brunette up.

"I didn't dammit." Tsuna muttered.

"I guess the 'bearer of the flames' has live up to its name huh?" one of them chuckled.

Tsuna blushed, shrugging it off.

Hayato had no fear of the teacher's anger or the pairs of eyes fired on him. He looked around and gave dagger glances—which made the girls squealed and the boys flinched. Sighing, he marched to the vacant seat beside Tsuna and sank to the chair.

"An eight year syndrome victim as the tenth boss of the family…" Hayato mumbled huskily, yet Tsuna could hear him, flinching. "Cih…how _delusional._"

The class proceeded normally—even though Gokudera kept giving Tsuna dagger glances, which caused the poor brunette winced in fear. During his fourth period, he received a crumpled letter and the sender was obvious….

Gokudera.

He called Tsuna for a meet up after school on the roof. Tsuna gulped, sweat dropped. Was this a fight? He even stated the winner will be the genuine boss for the Vongola family….well to be frank, Tsuna was more willingly to give up his position and let Gokudera take his stead if the silverette wants to sit and talk…

So time flies and the time had come…

Tsuna was planning to fled, but since Gokudera was his seatmate, he had no other choice or it will be double the trouble the next day they met…

"_What? Aren't you the one who mixed them together and rant about the shit of bearer of the flames even though you're just a __**wimp**__ in reality?"_

Tsuna couldn't have agreed more to what Reborn said. He was a wimp, even the class had stamped his as 'Dame' Tsuna; besides his heavy eight grade syndrome effect, his grades were lower than average, suck at sports and basically…. good for nothing. Tsuna never thought about his situation when he was still infected—oblivious with the fact and just don't care about what people say—for he was the 'bearer of the flames' to defeat the organization….who was different from everybody else….

But it was just an infection!

Nonetheless, Tsuna packed his items and leave the classroom….off to the rooftop; his fate awaited for him.

"Oh there you are, little delusional boy." Gokudera scoffed at the brunette, a cigarette stick between his lips.

"H-Hi, Gokudera…" Tsuna tried to hide the fear of his voice. "W-What do you want?"

"I was fed up with the fact that a delusional kid like you should be the boss of the Vongola family. Look no matter how you look at it, I was more suited to be a boss than you!"

"Well calm down Gokudera-kun.." Tsuna gulped nervously, fidgeted his fingers. "We can talk about this…"

"No." Gokudera spitted his cigarette and took out a few red sticks…. dynamites?! "We will settle this one-on-one. Last one standing wins!"

Oh…in the name of…

Suddenly Reborn popped out of nowhere and landed on Tsuna's tall, brown hair. "Tsuna. Tsuna!" he whispered. "Use your eight grade syndrome imagination."

"WHAT?!" Tsuna exclaimed, did he hear it right?

"During manga or games, what will the main character do if they were in these kind of situation?"

Tsuna sweat dropped, but he answered it anyway, rather mildly. "Summon a weapon and defeat it."

"Then do it."

"Reborn! You're not serious!" Tsuna was crying now. "I told you don't mix the two together!"

"Trust me, Tsuna." Reborn's voice was stern, yet full of certainty that Tsuna was almost convinced. "Do you know why only some of us get eight grade syndrome?"

Tsuna hesitated.

"Because the imagination of eight grade syndrome is real. It was real, Tsuna. And only some of us are meant to hold that power…"

Tsuna, to be frank, was rather fired up by Reborn's words. His caramel eyes widened with hope; maybe he could start believing.

"…_even though you're just a __**wimp**__ in reality?"_

"No…I'm not a wimp…" Tsuna gritted his teeth. "I'm not…I'm not! And I will not be one!"

"Then believe, Tsuna!"

"Alright Reborn!" Tsuna was shock to found the enthusiasm in his voice. "It's time to fight…."

Tsuna squared his shoulders and let his caramel eyes met Gokudera's sharp, olive ones. Gokudera's eyebrows rolled, noticing the different air coming from the brunette.

Somehow he was more….confident.

Tsuna dug his pocket and took a pair of old mittens, sighing. "Damn…I only have this with me. This weapon was not good enough…"

"Oy delusional bastard!" Gokudera was yelling now. "Are you afraid now? Do you need the toilet?"

"Yes, you're right, I'm delusional." Tsuna's voice was deep, as if a whole new energy was penetrated inside him. "But that's why, I am the bearer of the flames! The one who will fight alongside Vongola and defeat the organization!"

Tsuna instinctively do his usual battle pose—side stepped his feet and crossed his arms, equipped with his old mittens. "My name was Sawada Tsunayoshi, bearer of the flames…"

Gokudera's eyebrows rolled in amusement.

"…The power I had was given by the god of the sky. To repay his kindness, In the name of the sky, I banish you out of this world and send you to hell. May the god of the flames give you mercy for your treacherous act!"

Suddenly, a burst of fire burnt his shoulders—it was hot, but warm enough that it didn't harm himself. In the middle of his tall brown hair, a spark of fire lit on his forehead, his caramel eyes turned to sharp orange.

"What the hell…" Hayato gaped.

"Now Gokudera Hayato!" confidence fueled in Tsuna's voice. "Let's see who is more delusional now…"

"Cih! I am not delusional! You autist freak!"

"But I sense a delusional power from you…" Tsuna said. "The dynamite…was your weapon, isn't it? It was a good weapon for an eight grade victim toy."

"M-M-Minister Uma had entrusted me these superpower dynamites to battle the organization!" Hayato's words run from his lips. "This dynamites bear the power from the outer dimension! With one blow, it will shred all matter into pieces! This bullet was made of justice and love from the umas—"

"Hehehehe…" Tsuna chuckled huskily. "That imagination is delusional than I am….uma..aliens…"

"Shut up you flames bearer from the east!" Hayato was flushing now. "I will show you…the training I have in the outer continent will paid off!"

"Then let us see, who is more delusional." Tsuna smirked.

As Tsuna and Gokudera were about to charge to one another, Reborn was at the upper school roof, gun in hand, smirking. "The dying will bullet for eight grade imagination…. seemed to be effective for him."

"Hmph." The black haired teenager beside him hesitated. "Is this what you're going to show me, little baby?"

"Sort of." Reborn said. "Was this interesting?"

"Well….at least I have something amusing to watch for now." the teenager smirked in mischief. "For your offer, I will think about it…especially if those two little herbivores destroyed the school roof for they little-childish game."

"That's good to hear, Kyoya Hibari." Reborn turned to Hibari, whose dagger-like eyes were glued on the battle before him.


	3. Victorious! Now let's make a Club!

**A/n= I was supposed to post this on Sunday...but I have no time since I'm visitint AFA...it was epic...**

**Anyways here's the next chapter...sorry if my writing seems dragged on or brief...I need to learn for inconsistency..**

**Please feedback ^^**

* * *

"Come here you freak." Hayato played the dynamite sticks between his fingers in amusement.

Tsuna, despite the bewilderment in his head, looked cool and composed than ever—it must be the effect of the flame, he thought. The tiny orange flame flickered on his tall-brown hair like a candle, warm heat radiating to his head, as if it was a sense of comfort—maybe that's what had kept him cool the entire event despite the killing intent glowing in Hayato's eyes.

"Oh you the descendant from the outer dimension…" Tsuna declared like a proposal; Hayato's brows arched in irritation—this boy was so delusional, no, a moron! Had he completely mixed up the conceptions between fantasy and reality? Hayato thought the brunette couldn't be anymore serious, but he was faced with a calm and deadpan Tsuna. "Your master must have made a mistake by sending you to me, bearer of the flames. I have no idea what are your intentions of taking over Vongola, but a being from the foreign distance must not be allowed to take such position."

Hayato's balled his fist, teeth clenched, snarling. "Damn it you eight year freak! I don't know what's going on in your head right now, but having an eight grade syndrome boss like you would be a stain of dirt to Vongola."

"Look's who's talking, you self proclaimed Uma minister."

"Shut up!"

Tsuna took a deep sigh, wilting his eyelids, and he crossed his arms—a pair of jet-black gloves with a printed cyan sphere snaking his fingers. "Very well then, it seems like you don't want to admit your own foolishness, Gokudera." Tsuna shook his head, and then eyes wide opened, showing off his radiant beads that was identical to the colour of the flame on his head—pure, burning, and blinding orange.

Hayato flinched inwardly—despite the same level of stupidity coming from the boy, there was something _different _about him, as if he was another person, a whole new different level…

Or…

This was his true self.

His body slightly trembled by the sight—a monster—but he tried to keep his tactless attitude. "Heh!" Hayato spitted the cigarette stick. "You have a big mouth for a small body. Now shall we tear those muscles of yours?"

With that, Tsuna found a wave of dynamite sticks rained above him like the opening of a firework show—except, the flames are hazardously aiming towards him instead of the sky. Tsuna sidestepped immediately, brows rose in confusion by his unusually sharp instinct; he was sure he was a clumsy man. Then, his feet kicking the air, fire blazing under his sneakers, and he glided to Hayato's direction in an abnormal speed.

Hayato was now trembling, fighting in his head whether to run or attack, it was futile. Tsuna was _fast…. too fast_, and Hayato jerked inwardly when he saw Tsuna's fist clenched, ready to give a good punch with his blazing gloves. Panic washing over him in his wake, Hayato grabbed all the dynamites in his pocket, and one by one, tossing them into the sky to Tsuna's direction like a bunch of mini launching rockets.

"Go die!" he tossed a few dynamite sticks half-assedly—contemplating his loss. "Go die! Just die! You eight grade syndrome freak! Go die! Go die! Bearer of the flames my ass! Die die die!"

Tsuna was rather unaffected by Hayato's tantrum—he evaded the mini rockets rather offhandedly, which confused and feared Hayato even more. After avoiding all of thirty- five flying dynamites, Tsuna zoomed towards Hayato, closing the gap between them.

"Damn it! I guess I won't hesitate…" Hayato mumbled and he took his dynamites thrice the number of his recent throw, cradling the flaring explosives in his arms. "Now feel this! Triple Bomb—!"

Before Hayato could toss the dynamite bunch to the high-speed brunette, one stick of dynamite fell to the ground, rolling under his knees, its ends still lit with fire.

_Is this the end of him…?_

Sighing, Hayato let go of the entire dynamite bunch in his arms, letting the lit sticks trampled to the ground around him. He'd given up. He was no match against the Bearer of the flames…

"The end of me…" he muttered under his breath rather tiredly, as if the burden of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

Tsuna's eyes slowly widened. Is that boy crazy? He was letting those explosives killing him! What is he thinking? Had he given up? Hayato might've got into his nerves by his trashy attitude towards him, but Tsuna refused to see any injuries or even worse, _death_ in this fight. Tsuna peered into his tightly clenched fist, hypothetically estimated his punch could send Hayato towards the city square, and not to mention, Tsuna was a foot away from the dying silver haired teen—one swift move and it's all over, victory reigns to Tsuna.

But was this the result that he'd wanted?

Going against his muscles and following his mind, Tsuna self consciously dived towards Hayato's direction, arms opened wide and in a swift gesture, he caught Gokudera's body in his arms; his back ached by the weight.

Then, they exploded.

A puff of smoke polluted the school rooftop, but nobody was injured. Hayato's eyes froze as the event sequence played on his mind over and over, it all had happened like a dream. To his dismay and bewilderment, he wasn't dead! He was breathing, standing, and gaping…

Tsuna landed himself lightly like a feather falling from the sky. He sighed in relief, and the flames on his head shrunk down—then to his surprise, the sparks of seriousness in is head had died down to carefree and lightness; he was back.

Little, haziness took over him, but it was enough to pick the general events of what's going on, saving the trivial things. Tsuna rubbed his temples, and then stirred to Gokudera, who was crouching on the spot, dumbfounded.

"Oh my god, Gokudera-kun!" Tsuna stumbled to him rather slowly, fearing the boy might bite. "Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?! I'm sorry if I scared you—"

"Forgive me."

"Huh?" Tsuna's head turned in confusion.

Gokudera suddenly dropped to his knees and let his head fell, silver locks sweeping against the floor. "Forgive me! I've been such a disgraceful representative to the Uma's!"

Tsuna, panic washed over him; if someone went to the scene, they could get the wrong idea. He pulled Gokudera's hand in an alarming manner. "Gokudera-kun!" he sweats dropped. "It's alright…come on…it's alright—"

"You're right, I have made a fool out of myself by testing the bearer of the flames…" Gokudera went o. "I was greed of power, wanting the position of the Vongola of myself….but in fact Vongola choose you…Sawada Tsunayoshi. Once again, I apologize for my unnecessary actions…."

Tsuna was about to hesitate, but Gokudera was still on the floor, bowing. Tsuna felt a tight knot formed on his stomach—Gokudera tried to kill him, bully him, and being intimidating, but not forgiving would be a dread sin, since the silver haired teen had begged for forgiveness in his knees, which was more than enough. Tsuna felt guilty too in fact—why not forgive a person who had begged for forgiveness?

The brunette offered his hand to the silver haired teen, who looked up to him with eyes bubbled with tears. Tsuna, afraid, tried to pulled out a genuine grin.

"Don't worry about it!"

The delicateness in Tsuna's actions is what made Hayato overwhelmed...

Tsunayoshi Sawada was very kind person, he had lived up to his name—Bearer of the flames—no, his boss, no, the boss of Vongola, which was his boss, but no…. that doesn't sound right…

The tenth boss of Vongola.

The tenth…

And so, Hayato grabbed Tsuna's hand rather violently, even though he didn't mean it—he was burst with excitement. Tsuna jolted by the pain flashing on his right arm…

"I will follow you whenever you go, tenth!" Hayato's eyes sparkled like a little begging puppy; if anyone could see it, they might spot some doggy tails wagging behind him. "Me, Gokudera Hayato, would be your right hand man!"

Tsuna freaked out. "No Gokudera-kun! No!"

Meanwhile, somewhere in the distance, Reborn was watching, smirking as he contemplated Tsuna's victory.

"Good for you, dame-Tsuna…" he whispered, flipping his leon gun, and leave the scene.

* * *

The next few days of his junior high school life took a turn for the next level.

Usually, Tsuna walked to school in silence, trying to avoid the chirping, noisy social attendants behind or before him, kept changing his course to make sure not to mingle in the crowd. But now, a loud, raspy voice called out for his name could be heard on the pavement.

It was Gokudera Hayato, the silverette who tried to butcher him to pieces with his dynamites like a week ago, now clinging over the brunette with a wide grin and overly formal attitude—he kept on calling him 'Tenth' or 'Master' even though Tsuna had refused him (politely) for countless of times that Tsuna had got used to it. Gokudera also kept declaring his self proclaimed right-hand man for the brunette, in which Tsuna could reply with a sheepish grin.

Despite the overwhelming presence of the silver haired teen, it was a lot better than being alone—one of those times was where Tsuna was grateful of his eight-year syndrome, which had enclosed the gap of Tsuna and Gokudera's friendship. Gokudera was very nice too—even though he looked more intimidating, just less hazardous.

It was nice though…except the fact that Reborn had officially lived in his house, which Tsuna didn't mind since he's a baby—he didn't take up much space in his room, before the mischievous baby set up his traps…

Until one day, Tsuna and Gokudera were at the rooftop having lunch, and Reborn approached them.

"How does it feel to have a comrade beside you, dame-Tsuna?"

"Well, it feels nice…" Tsuna chuckled mildly.

"It was an honor to stand beside the Flame Bearer every single day of my life. The Uma Minister had sent me a message to protect the Flame Bearer of my life. Therefore, I shall protect the Flame Bear—no the tenth, with all my heart and soul to fulfill my duty!" Gokudera declared with a straight face, which scared Tsuna—what level was his eight-grade syndrome that the silverette could be such a bonehead?

"That's really good to hear." Reborn gave them a smirk in which Tsuna was feared of. "Now, you're going to take the next step to overthrow the organization…."

Tsuna was about to hesitate, but Gokudera butted in enthusiastically. "Yes Reborn-san! What can we do to throw this organization? I will make sure my trainings on the outer space will paid off!"

Reborn ignored Gokudera's ranting. "First, both of you need to create your own club in this school…. in your language, you might call it secret base…"

"What secret base Reborn?" Tsuna's uncertainty rose—there was no way to create their own club called 'Eight Grade Syndrome Warriors' unless they want to be the butt of the joke of the whole campus, heck will anyone even sign up for this stupidity…

"That's cool tenth! Our own secret base!" Gokudera turned to Tsuna excitedly; Tsuna wondered if he's really excited or just exaggerating. "We can gather enough party members to battle the organization!"

"Umm…Gokudera-kun…" Tsuna whispered. "I don't think anyone would want to join our club…after all we're eight grade victims after all.."

"But the level of your eight grade syndrome was spectacular that you really have that power inside you, tenth!" Gokudera said earnestly. "Unlike me, the Uma's might be ashamed of me…I don't live up to their name well…I can't make it sound so real…"

Gokudera's eyes softened dramatically as his voice trailed off….

Tsuna sweat dropped…..

Gokudera can't be anymore serious. It's pretty obvious who was more affected by this delusional sickness...

"Stop with the pointless arguments, you little morons." Reborn called them, and the two teenagers' turned to Reborn; yes, they were _morons. _"There is no use to argue now, since I have sign up the club, here…"

Before Tsuna could take hold of his situation, Reborn took out a sheet of paper—the club sign up sheet—already signed by whoever's in charge; Tsuna was more afraid of the one who agreed to set up this bullcrap circle.

* * *

A/N= fudge...sorry this is so poorly written TT TT please r&r ^^


	4. Baseball Star Sarcasm!

**Edited version thanks to my beta Angel-chan ^^**

** please r&r**

* * *

Tsuna breathed underwater.

A few seconds later, the brunet resurfaced from his bathtub, panting heavily for air. As his lungs drummed violently against his chest, the brunet laid his head on the bathtub rear while streaks of water dripped from his hair.

"Tsu-kun!" Tsuna's heavy breathing had Nana Sawada rush to the bathroom; a worried expression was evident on her face. "Are you okay? Don't tell me you're seeking for some coins or chuppas underwater!"

"No…I'm fine, mom…" Tsuna sighed, wondered if his eight-grade syndrome had finally got his mother; it better not, since anything related to eight-year syndrome was the last thing Tsuna wanted to hear.

"All right then…" The worried look on Nana's face flashed into a genuine smile, as if she was the happiest mother on earth; she doubted it though. "Then, we will have dinner! Mama prepared your favorite hamburger! You better eat it or else the naughty boys from the organization—"

"Mom, there's no such thing as an organization!" Tsuna protested, much to his surprise.

The woman was slapped by bewilderment and her eyes went wide. Slowly, her lips graced into a relieved smile.

_My son has grown up,_ she thought happily.

"I'm so glad…Tsuna-kun." Nana spoke rather to herself, but Tsuna could hear her despite his headache; his brows rose questioningly at his mother's comment.

When he was convinced his mother's footsteps subsided, Tsuna hopped out of the bath and his liquid-streaked, left foot landed on the marble tiles safely. He was surprised he was able to handle his clumsy motor skills.

Or to tell the truth…he was rather shock.

"Reborn must be kidding," his umpteenth mumbling— since he arrived home— echoed in his throat. "He's not going to create that 'Eight Grade syndrome' club, is he?"

After having his dinner, Tsuna walked in to his room and closed the door behind him. The meat of the hamburger on his tongue had managed to calm him for a few minutes after he had swallowed it, and it left with a wide pit of anxiety after.

The brunette didn't even bother to dry his hair. As he brushed his musty hair against his bed, eyes bubbled up with warm tears.

"_Reborn,"_ he whined for the umpteenth time, feet kicking in the air.

Reborn, who was sitting on Tsuna's desk reading the latest installment of Fairy Tail on shonen jump—his round, caramel eyes were fully absorbed on the comic panel before him - replied offhandedly, "It's already decided." He hummed. "You can't do anything about it."

"I don't think anyone would've join this delusional club, Reborn!"

"You never know," Reborn said curtly. "There might be an idiot like you at school. It was the right decision to flock all the idiots together."

"I'm pretty convinced it was just only me and Gokudera," Tsuna muttered.

"God created equal amounts of species in this earth, it's just a matter of time until a number of them will be exploited," Reborn's voice trailed proudly. "This concludes that God created equal amounts of idiots like you; it's just a matter of time before you can find them."

"Such philosophical words, I'm impressed," Tsuna said sarcastically while rubbing his towel against his wet hair. "But really Reborn, these idiots might not be in Namimori—"

Reborn sighed inwardly, and in an instant, the baby hopped on Tsuna's hair and tossed the shonen jump across the room. The hitman baby winced at the dampness. "You talk big with logic despite your brain being filled with trash a week ago, if not for my arrival."

Tsuna motioned Reborn to stand in a comfortable position. "I want to abandon that with me."

"If you abandon your syndrome, Gokudera will leave you."

"Then I will convince him, too."

"Oh? Is it easy to convince Gokudera?"

Tsuna was stunned as his mind wandered to the battle he had with Gokudera on the school roof, which had almost killed them both by Gokudera's carelessness. Come to think of it, it had been a week since that happened. School days seemed to have passed faster when he had company like Gokudera, who was scary on the outside but kind at heart.

He dismissed the thought. Gokudera was someone important to Tsuna, and the brunet couldn't deny that fact, despite he almost got killed once.

Placing Reborn on the desk, Tsuna switched off the lights and buried under the blankets, closing his heavy eyelids, as if a stone had been placed on his eyes. With anxiety and uneasiness plaguing his mind, Tsuna soon succumbed to slumber.

The next day, Tsuna and Gokudera gained permission from the teachers to set up their 'club' despite the rolling brows coming from the forms manager—in which Gokudera gave him a sharp glare and Tsuna contemplated about digging a hole and hiding himself.

Even though it was believable that their club was the less beneficial in the school, they'd been given a special room: sofas, chairs, a table, even cupboards and a television. Tsuna was afraid how Reborn bribed the one in charge. This didn't seem like a clubroom at all; in fact, it looked more like a lounge, until Tsuna realized this was actually the Staffs' Room to his dismay and wonder.

"Tenth!" Gokudera had been in great fervor ever since this morning. "Look at this room! The teachers gave us such a special room for our secret base! They must have recognized our will to fight the organization and to protect them all!"

"Umm…yeah, Gokudera-kun." Tsuna sank on the sofa uneasily, even though the fabric was exceptionally great on his skin. "For now, we need to wait for other members who want to be registered in our roster."

The words came out naturally from Tsuna's lips; this was one of the reasons he didn't mind having Gokudera as a friend: he could be himself.

The hours had gone by since Gokudera and Tsuna attended classes. Other clubs had already got members or were already full in about less an hour—at least half of the clubs were still valid by break time—but to their dismay, nobody had even signed up on the rooster, even though their club room looked a lot more luxurious than the others. Tsuna had expected this. He didn't mind getting bullied or casted out since he was used to it. In fact, Hayato was the one who kept his head high.

During dismissal hours, still, their names lingered lonely on the register paper in front of the club room. Tsuna turned to Gokudera sadly.

"Nobody came," he said curtly.

"Che! They're all cowards! Nobody wants to sacrifice their lives to battle the organization!" Gokudera crossed his arms, huffed.

"Umm…Gokudera-kun, I also thought it's risky to recruit innocent civilians, just like Grand Theft Auto," Tsuna said, as if he was in deep thought. "Can we recruit innocent people to be our allies? No matter what kind of button we press on the controller, it'll harm the civilians, or worse, make us seem like the bad guy. I think by setting up this club, we're basically doing the same thing…"

"Hmm…" Gokudera contemplated on Tsuna's empty words. "You're right, Tenth, the police will arrest us for being delusional."

"While we're actually the real ones," Tsuna chuckled. He blinked. Did he really say that?

"Yeah."

Before Tsuna could come up with another awkward, delusional conversation, a knock intruded their apparent tranquility. The boys' eyes widened in unison and hope gleamed within them.

As Tsuna was about to respond to the guest, a deep voice, muffled, said, "Hello, is this the…Vongola Grade Eight-Syndrome Family Club?" Another knock came. "Hello?"

Tsuna chuckled at the name; no matter how embarrassing the club was the name would always be a punch line to Tsuna. In contrast, Gokudera remained passive, as if the name was a certain successful business firm, keeping his head high.

"Umm, please come in!" Tsuna hastily raised his voice.

The door swung open and a tall boy with spiky raven hair and hazel eyes stood before them with a friendly smile plastered on his face.

"Yo!" his upbeat voice greeted. "I want to join the club. My name is Yamamoto Takeshi!"

Tsuna's eyes slowly widened at the name. Yamamoto? He was one of the most popular guys in Tsuna's class; he was a hope to the baseball team in Namimori, he was surrounded by fangirls in his free time—he doesn't notice it though—and he was always mingled in the social crowd.

Tsuna wondered how the most popular in his class ended up being in this club room…

"Oh, hello, Yamamoto-san," Tsuna smiled awkwardly. "I'm the club vice president, Sawada Tsunayoshi."

"Ah, I know you! Tsuna is your nickname, isn't it?" Yamamoto laughed. "We're in the same class, remember?"

Tsuna sweat dropped. He must've meant Dame-Tsuna. Who doesn't remember the spiky brunet who lowered the class average's grade? Everyone will always remember a great criminal who left a big legacy behind him—like Hitler.

Gokudera cleared his throat. "I am the club president, Gokudera Hayato. My partner, Sawada Tsunayoshi, the flame bearer from the east, and I, Minister of Uma from Space Channel V, have decided to put our lives on the line to protect the civilians from the organization. If you agree to put your life in line for humanity, you may make an oath to form this alliance."

Silence.

Tsuna sweat dropped, and Yamamoto looked dumbfounded whereas Gokudera remained passive. Tsuna dug a hole on the ground inwardly. If Gokudera was going to throw this delusional lengthy explanation to newcomers, Tsuna had no doubt that their club will disband in less than a day; it will put off newcomers. But Tsuna could only sigh. Talking senses to Gokudera was equal to suicide: it was futile.

To Tsuna's shock, Yamamoto didn't seem to be put off at all—in fact, he was laughing hard while holding his stomach.

"What a creative opening sentence, Hayato-chan!"

"_Hayato-chan_…" Gokudera flinched at the familiarity, face reddening. "The hell, you freak? Don't go all buddy-buddy on me!"

_Now Gokudera's going all brash and logical! _Tsuna cried inwardly.

Yamamoto giggled. "It was an interesting speech! Oh, that's it! I want to join this club!"

"Oh, that weak oath of yours will not be enough to convince me," Gokudera spat with his arms crossed over his chest. "Do you have any idea what you're doing? You're putting your life on the line!"

"Eh, am I?" Yamamoto asked in a clueless tone. "I thought this club meant something like eighth grade acting or something like that. A drama club."

Tsuna died.

"Eight grade syndrome!" Gokudera yelled at the baseball star. "Let me spell it for you. S-Y-N-D-R-O-M-E!"

"Are? What's that?"

"Screw you, idiot motherfucker!"

"Mother-father?"

"_Motherfucker_!"

Yamamoto suddenly looked stern; Tsuna could see his fists clenching, brows narrowed at the silver haired teen. Tsuna gave a worried look to Gokudera. Somehow Gokudera's attitude seemed to bring the friendly brunette on edge. Gokudera had crossed the line and Tsuna was afraid of another conflict.

_No…don't fight here,_ he thought.

It was futile: their eyes locked with each other and, like a preying eagle, genuine killing intent radiated from their eyes. Tsuna inwardly heard a tense cowboy music playing in the background, a flying leaf awkwardly made its leave with the gushing wind.

"I don't fuck my mother," Yamamoto said in a low voice.

And then, Tsuna laughed out loud.

Gokudera had the urge to laugh at the dense baseball star, but only gave him a sharp glare. "Damn it. You're lame, asshole."

"I clean my ass everyday. Stop mocking me, please."

"You're getting on my nerves, Takeshi." Gokudera glowered.

"Really? Am I too hot for you?"

"Shut up!"

And so, Yamamoto and Gokudera's bickering lasted until the sky turned orange and the sun sank in the horizon. The two guys had accompanied Tsuna home, and it was more noisier than usual because of their endless argument that soon lost its meaning of sarcasm. Tsuna noticed Gokudera's logic had been used as he argued with Yamamoto and thought Yamamoto would be a good influence for the gang.

But of course, Tsuna never know what would happen to him or his friends…

Especially regarding the baseball star…

Baseball….

"By the way, Yamamoto," Tsuna said.

"Hm? Yes, Tsuna?" Yamamoto's sulky face flashed into a smile. Damn, he was creepy.

"Why didn't you join the baseball club instead?"


	5. Cheer up Takeshi! Part One

**A/N= Happy birthday to me! **

**Life has been really hard lately and I've been going several mental breakdown..but this fanfic has fueled my energy ^^**

**Very Special thanks to my beta Angel-chan *0* without her this fanfic couldn't get any more better.**

**Please R&R ! Thanks ^^**

* * *

"Why didn't you join the baseball club?"

Tsuna knew Yamamoto was the baseball star of Namimori, so it was strange that the raven didn't sign up for it this year. The brunet was just trying to make a conversation towards the upbeat teenager, but a pang of guilt hit him when a distant expression slipped on Yamamoto's face; his once lively hazel eyes turned cloudy and dim, as if Tsuna's question had sent Yamamoto to a faraway place.

_He was so far that Tsuna couldn't even try to read his expression, as if his usual cheerful character had slipped into the unknown parts of the universe._

Yamamoto suddenly entered a fit of laughter, and made Tsuna believe the sight he saw was nothing but his imagination. "I'm trying to take a different route this year! I mean, I've been playing baseball since I was in elementary school…so…."

His voice trailed off, and his eyebrows twitched uneasily. Tsuna's eyes slowly widened—something was definitely not right.

"I see…" Tsuna replied curtly.

"Then Tsuna, Gokudera," Yamamoto said with a bright smile, "I need to go home now, since I need to help my dad in his sushi restaurant."

"Tenth!" Gokudera turned to Tsuna in an alarming manner. "We better follow this guy! You never know that behind his so-called sushi restaurant, his family might be poisoning the civilians behind Japanese delicacy! We must not trust a random ally, tenth!"

Yamamoto looked taken aback for a while, but he sighed in forfeit and simply smiled. "Well, it's your choice Gokudera, but you can drop by if you want." The baseball boy turned to Tsuna. "Alright then, see you guys in the club room tomorrow!"

With that curt departure, Yamamoto darted off, leaving the duo alone.

A sheer curiosity formed in Tsuna's head, but he let it slide since it wasn't his place to pry, after all he just knew Yamamoto—sticking his nose in the other's business might not be the best idea.

"Let's go, Gokudera-kun." Tsuna started walking, his backpack bouncing on his shoulders.

Gokudera seemed to be absorbed on the direction Yamamoto went, and immediately turned to the brunet. "Ah, yes, tenth! Let's go home! Before that, let's grab some mana to restore our energy to do homework tonight!"

Tsuna sighed with a smile. "You mean dinner? Let's see, my mom says she has a guest to attend, so is pork buns on the city stand okay with you?"

"Of course, tenth!" Gokudera exclaimed, eyes glinting with genuine excitement of a curious little child. "Today, I will use my coins to pay for us both!"

"You mean treat? Alright, whatever." Tsuna giggled. He left his wallet anyway, but he felt a little bit guilty for suggesting to eat at the stall in the first place; Gokudera didn't mind though.

* * *

"This stuff is good!" Gokudera studied the meat buns in his hands, as if he was examining an exotic item. "I wonder from what continent this meat buns are from! This raises my XP to one thousand percent!"

"Yeah." Tsuna nodded. As the honeyed taste of roasted pork satisfied his tongue, his mind wandered to Yamamoto's well-being—he wished Yamamoto could eat the meat buns with them since this particular meat bun had been always Tsuna's favorite. Every day after school, the brunet will always purchase this snack, and his pain from all the mocking from his classmate will disappear completely.

It worked like a remedy, he thought, but today, the food tasted better, since he was eating with a friend. Food always tasted better when you have someone to eat with….

"By the way, tenth." Gokudera chewed his bun. "I noticed something was off with that baseball freak when he left."

Tsuna's eyes widened. Gokudera always seemed indifferent about the well-being of others, especially Yamamoto whom he quickly detested.

"It must be something with his baseball teammates, I guess," Tsuna presumed. "He wouldn't be hanging with us if there's no conflict between his team."

Tsuna's eyes wilted sadly; sheer disappointment was evident in his eyes. Of course, who would want to hang out with the eight-year freaks voluntarily, unless they get paid…

Then it was silence between the boys—except for their chewing and the sea of horns from the mass of cars before them. Then Gokudera suddenly spoke, eyes looking to particularly nowhere.

"His arm, tenth," Gokudera said.

"Arm?" Tsuna turned to Gokudera, curious.

"When he left just now." Gokudera bit his bun and chewed. "He was holding his arms in an awkward position. On one point before we left, I saw him flinch."

"Gokudera, are you serious?"

"I bet all my weapons on my party deck," Gokudera said. "I'm sure."

Tsuna shook his head hastily, hands flailing. "Gokudera…Yamamoto can still play baseball, right?"

"Who knows?" Gokudera replied offhandedly. "It'll two to three months to heal, which exceeds the day for the nationals."

The nationals? Tsuna thought. Well, the baseball nationals were around the corner and Tsuna knew how important it was for Yamamoto—his left arm, with that condition, Tsuna doubted Yamamoto would even stand swinging the bat alone.

His eyes wilted and uneasiness settled inside him. "Gokudera, do you think Yamamoto will be alright?"

"Who knows, tenth."

* * *

"…And that's how I think something is wrong with Yamamoto." Tsuna lowered his head, eyes fixed on the floor while Reborn listened, flipping the pages of Shonen jump.

Reborn crossed his arms and let his dark-caramel beads meet the brunet's rattled expression. He clicked his tongues impatiently. "You know - " Reborn closed the comic. " - I thought it was obvious what action you should take to save Yamamoto."

"Eight grade syndrome?" Tsuna rolled his eyes.

"Obviously," Reborn said matter-of-factly. "Let me tell you something, Tsuna. I've learned something about Yamamoto Takeshi."

"Did you actually observe him?" Tsuna sweat dropped.

Instead of replying, Reborn yanked his mini-laptop from his baby-sized pocket and flipped the screen open—Yamamoto's face flashed across the screen with his profile and statistics. To Tsuna's dismay, this reminded him of a particular enemy profile, like the one he'd seen in the American-action movies.

"What the _hell_, Reborn?"

"Shut up and listen, dammit," Reborn snapped.

The following day, Tsuna and Gokudera found Yamamoto's desk unattended.

"Did that idiot skip school?" Gokudera turned to Tsuna.

Tsuna, who was well informed from what Reborn tell him last night, tried to remain nonchalant. "I guess."

This was not the right time to tell Gokudera yet.

Suddenly, the duo heard a murmur of conversations from the group of boys behind them; it instantly intrigued Tsuna and Gokudera and they had to hear it—Yamamoto's name was in it.

"Y' know about Takeshi?" Eren, a member of the baseball club, leaned against his desk. "He skipped school today."

"The captain's words must've got 'im," one teammate chuckled. "I never knew that boy was emotional. Wait, I never knew he had emotion in the first place!"

"Well, aside from his good skills," Nishinoya, the leader of the lot, spoke in clarity. "With his arms in his current condition, he would be useless on the field."

Another followed in skittish laughter. "If it wasn't for his good skills, I didn't want to accept that idiot in the first place!"

Then a loud laughter swept amongst the crowd. Gokudera clenched his fist and was about to charge at the guys, but Tsuna tugged the hem of his shirt, stopping him; Tsuna shook his head, eyes remained passive, but anxiety was evident in his eyes.

"No, Gokudera-kun, we must not interfere."

* * *

After the dismissal bell rang, Tsuna and Gokudera went to the clubroom straight away, since the place had become their source of comfort and for their temporary luxury. When they entered, they were surprised to see Yamamoto sitting on the couch nearby the window.

"I thought you were absent, idiot." Gokudera hissed, tossing his bag beside Yamamoto.

Yamamoto's right hand was fixed on his left, grasping it tightly, as if his life was on the line. He laughed good-naturedly. "I came in late, and besides I've been sitting in this clubroom so I can learn about this club!"

"Nonsense!" Gokudera yelled. "There's nothing here you can learn about us—"

Yamamoto shrieked in agony, gripping his arms together.

Tsuna's heart raced in fear; he kneeled beside the moaning boy, shaking Yamamoto's shoulders helplessly.

"Yamamoto! Are you okay?"

"_Tsuna…."_

"Please, Yamamoto." Tears swelled up in Tsuna's eyes. "Hang in there, we'll call the ambulance…"

"_No….they won't be able to help…"_Yamamoto's voice trailed in pain, wincing constantly.

"What do you mean?"

Suddenly, Yamamoto was silent—his wincing subsided, and to Tsuna's dismay, his breathe slowed…

"Yamamo—"

"Because," Yamamoto suddenly jumped on his seat, twisting his legs in a weird motion and in an instant, entered a typical fighting pose, winking naughtily. "A swordsman's hand cannot be healed by modern medics."

"_EH?" _Tsuna and Gokudera's expressions darkened. Oh, don't tell…

"These hands of mine were given by birth," Yamamoto hissed huskily, holding his injured arm, but smiling. "They're the ultimate hands my ancestors had used to fight off countless enemies from the organization. The Yamamoto Clan had been entrusted to protect the Namimori Residence."

"Wait, Yamamoto—" Tsuna sweat dropped while Gokudera whistled in a carefree manner.

"My dad said he sealed the dark aura of the old master in my hands." Yamamoto's eyes widened, hazel-eyes glowing radiantly. "Now, this _fucking _monster is fighting for resistance, if I don't seal him, he will escape…and destroy Namimori…"

Yamamoto yelped again, feet trembling.

"Yamamoto, what's wrong?" Tsuna rolled his eyes tiredly.

"No…my body…Ah!" Yamamoto held his stomach tight, and collapsed to the floor. "The monster! _The monster, it's coming out!" _Yamamoto moaned as if a dark spirit had gotten inside him—Tsuna thought it really did.

Tsuna sighed, hitting his palms against his head. But on the other hand, Gokudera was now kneeling beside Yamamoto, acting as if he had saw something coming out of Yamamoto's chest.

"Oi, baseball idiot!" Gokudera cried. "I see it! The monster from your body!"

Tsuna saw none, but Yamamoto's eyes widened in horror.

"Gokudera, stop it all at once! Or it will destroy Namimori!"

"Damn it!" Gokudera grabbed a nearby item—a desk lamp, really?

Gokudera held the desk lamp in front of his chest and chanted. "Flame arrow!"

Then Gokudera made some hissing shooting noises while Yamamoto was pretending to scream.

"Oh, my god, we got them!" Yamamoto cheered.

"The monster was still in baby size," Gokudera replied. "It was still simple to annihilate in one shot!"

Tsuna was supposed to be stressed out by his friends' eccentric behavior—screaming, yelling, sweat dropping, or joining the fight as the flame bearer and doing the things what the club supposed to do—acting like voluntary morons. Yet, his mind was restless as he watched Yamamoto and Gokudera rolling around the floor like playful little kids, while contemplating what Reborn said last night about Yamamoto.

Yamamoto….

"_Remember Tsuna, you need to save Yamamoto with your eight-grade syndrome.__"_

"_What do you mean__,__ Reborn?__"_

"_Yamamoto Takeshi…" __Reborn__'s eyes darkened so that Tsuna couldn't see the usual mischief in his black beads; it was usually a bad sign. "Yamamoto, in his state, couldn't keep up with reality anymore."_

* * *

**I am so sorry for the angst! And the last line might be a hint for another angst next chapter...but don't worry, the humor's still there!**

**Please R&R ^^ Thanks!**


	6. Cheer up Takeshi! Part Two

**A/N= Sorry for the very long update...school has been so busy.**

**Special thanks for my dearest beta Angel-chan ^^ she was a big help and was busy as me ^^ Ganbatte!**

**Please rate and review ^^ there is action here so stay tuned!**

* * *

After bidding their goodbyes, Tsuna and Gokudera walked apart from Yamamoto. Once the baseball idiot was no longer in sight, Gokudera's ranting, which he'd held since the clubroom hour, burst from his lips, and Tsuna wondered where the silveret got the energy from—it was already evening and Tsuna's mind slowly wandered to his mother's dessert: a caramel pudding layered by full-whipped cream and then a grimace passed across his face when he realized that Reborn was at home, who would most likely take his portion, just like the other days…

"Tenth, you're drooling." Gokudera paused momentarily, head tilting quizzically.

"Ah!" Tsuna blushed and wiped it immediately with the hem of his shirt—disgusting.

Gokudera slightly winced in disgust. "That won't do, tenth."

Suddenly, Gokudera sunk to his knees and unzipped his backpack, pulling out an orange handkerchief and gently applied it to the corners of his boss' lips. Tsuna's eyes slowly widened—realizing that people were watching—and his face turned beet red as he timidly told Gokudera to stop whatever he was doing.

"What's wrong, tenth?" Gokudera crossed his arms, pouting. "I am just serving the Bearer of the Flames as his right hand man from the space channel—"

Tsuna sighed and shrugged, telling Gokudera what to do was pointless; the silveret was too stubborn for his own good. Tsuna decided to steer their conversation to another direction.

"I wish Yamamoto would start to hang around with us more."

Gokudera paused after he shoved the handkerchief inside his backpack. "He was hanging out with his baseball friends, right?"

"Well, I remember his teammates called him before we left."

"You mean Nishinoya and the lot?" Gokudera's voice filled with venom—despite his nonchalance and hatred towards the baseball idiot, he knew Yamamoto was someone he needed to take care of, especially someone important to the boss he revered.

Tsuna sighed, thinking about the backstabbing conversation Nishinoya and his friends had in the classroom this morning. Anxiety was evident on his face, and Gokudera noticed the painful look that stained his boss' handsome features.

He quickly flashed a grin. "Don't worry about Yamamoto, tenth. The strength and courage of the Yamamoto clan resides within him. With the great ancestors' aura gifted on him, I'm sure Yamamoto will be okay!"

Tsuna saw the effort of Gokudera trying to cheer him up and a smile graced his lips. "I know, Gokudera-kun."

* * *

That night, Tsuna was busy pressing the small buttons on his phone, texting Gokudera. He was asking the silveret for the answers in their math homework, but instead, Gokudera sent him a hundred-word explanation of the theories and methods for the question. Tsuna sweat dropped—this was not what he expected…

"Damn it, Tsuna…" Reborn's voice trailed; the baby was hanging on a hammock he'd set up on the ceiling, slurping the lemonade drink Nana had made for her son. "Are you mourning because Gokudera sent you the methods instead of the answers? That's what a friend should do Tsuna. He's not a lazy bum like you."

"Shut up, look who's talking." Tsuna's eyes traced Reborn, who was slurping the lemon drink in delight. Fighting for his lemonade would be a waste of energy, so Tsuna just shrugged it off and went back to his 'self-studying'.

Reborn chuckled silently and grabbed another volume of shonen jump, flipped the pages, and soon succumbed to reading. The tranquil silence didn't last for a while until Tsuna's phone rang; the ringtone reverberated in the room—_Snow Fairy—_ and the brunet was surprised to see Gokudera's name on the screen. What happen to the part texting him?

He answered the call and inquired, "Hello?"

"Tenth!" Gokudera's raspy voice almost deafened Tsuna. "I have bad news, tenth, about Yamamoto!"

"Eh?" Tsuna stood up on the spot, hands damping. "How do you know? Where are you, Gokudera?"

"I am in the general mana supplier right now," Gokudera said in a matter of fact tone. "You know, the one where we can afford with little money but restores our mana to a hundred percent, but then it will reduce your health bar—"

"You mean convenience store?" Tsuna caught the context to Gokudera's sentence. "Wait, don't tell me you're there while teaching me?"

"Yeah, any problem with that?"

Tsuna sweat dropped and he thought about all the complicated theories Gokudera had sent him through the phone—Gokudera must be very intelligent, he seemed to consider those high level mathematics as if it was a kindergarten's assignment.

"By the way - " Tsuna scratched his head sheepishly. " - how do you know about Yamamoto's state?"

"I met his guardian."

"His dad?" Tsuna rolled his eyes, slightly fed up with Gokudera's eight-grade syndrome languages—not that he minded actually.

"Yeah, I saw him at the convenience store just now, and he immediately noticed me as one of Yamamoto's friends." Gokudera sounded conflicted between anger and embarrassment. "I have no idea what the baseball idiot told him about us though…"

"I see…" Tsuna rolled his pen between his fingers. "So what's this bad news you were talking about?"

The end of the line was silent for a moment that Tsuna assumed Gokudera had hung up the call, but then Gokudera's gruff voice returned.

"His baseball mates abandoned him."

The phone slipped between Tsuna's fingers and dropped to the floor with a thud. As Reborn's attention directed to the fallen object, Tsuna's face was left with disbelief and horror, as if he had seen a ghost. His palms went damp and he held in the urge to cry—Yamamoto didn't deserve this!

"Tenth! Tenth! Are you there? Tenth! Are you okay?" Gokudera's voice barked on the line.

Tsuna squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fist, his nails sinking through his skin. He didn't get how his friends deserted a popular boy like Yamamoto over an injured arm. Maybe that's what people called for fake friends—Yamamoto had been living a lie, all of it. At that moment, Tsuna was grateful that he was never acquainted with these kinds of people, relieved even.

Then he realized that he was always saved by eight grade syndrome—the barrier that set him up towards society. Maybe that's why those 'fake' people never tried to approach him, maybe that's why the social butterflies never minded him…

"_Yamamoto wasn't able to keep up with reality anymore."_

Suddenly, Tsuna stood on his seat, he bolted towards his cabinet and pulled out a huge, toy box and frantically his possessions—weapons, he once called them.

Relief washed over Tsuna's face when he came across a plastic, wooden sword his father had carved from a single bamboo for his fifth birthday—inspired by Tsuna's favorite anime about a swordsman. Then he saw a water gun hidden underneath his toy box, and a brilliant idea came across his mind. He crawled and reached for his phone and excitedly commanded his soon-to-be-right-hand-man.

"Gokudera, come to my house now! I have a plan!"

At the same time, the brunet turned to Reborn, who was now smiling. "I need your help Reborn, shoot me with the eight-grade syndrome bullet tomorrow!"

* * *

Namimori Middle School entrance was quickly swept with murmurs and sobs, steadily rising in volume. Nobody was able to walk in their classrooms, heck, even the school premises, and nobody was inclined to do so with the commotion happening at the Namimori entrance.

"Takeshi-kun! Takeshi-kun!" Yamamoto's homeroom teacher sank to his knees as horror washed over his face. "Please come down, son!"

"_Takeshi_!" Yamamoto's fangirls in packs of two or three were cringing at the corner, flocking like animals, sobbing and sniffing while wiping tears off their faces.

On the school rooftop, Yamamoto stood—right before the metal fences. The tip of his sneakers was an inch away from the edge of the building, and his body leaned against the fence behind him, head tilted downwards so nobody could see his dark expression.

"Oi, Takeshi!" Nishinoya, the leader of the baseball club, started sobbing on his knees. "Don't get it wrong, Takeshi! We just didn't want you to push yourself!"

"He's right!"

"_How emotional…"_ one of the baseball mates grumbled, arms crossed.

While the rumbling noise sounded distant from the eleventh floor, Yamamoto forced out a smile and muttered, "Why? Why does the baseball god not bless me anymore?_"_

The raven-haired teen let his eyes scan across his classmates' tiny faces one last time—he'd consulted his suicide attempt with his dad, and it was obviously unapproved by his only parent. _It's too late now._ Death was only an inch away, and that was the distance made between his sneakers and the empty sky.

_Aside from baseball, I was actually a lonely person, _Yamamoto recited in his mind. Baseball was the only remedy he had to escape reality, and he was gifted, talented, and meant to love baseball.

Briefly, the image of his newfound friends, Tsuna and Gokudera, drifted to his mind. He remembered the duo seemed to be trapped in their own world, happily being themselves. The first time he noticed them was when Gokudera kicked Tsuna's desk on the first day of his arrival, and they were hand-in-hand on the next day, as if they'd been friends for years.

Soon, Yamamoto had been watching the duo for days—when Gokudera helped Tsuna with his homework, the duo having lunch on the rooftop, and walking home from school together. That's what friends do, right?

Yamamoto sighed deeply—he was grateful he could be part of that little circle, even though it was a short time.

_Tsuna and Gokudera, thank you._

Before Yamamoto could plunge himself in the emptiness, a familiar voice barked behind him.

"Where do you think you're going, swordsman Yamamoto?"

Yamamoto turned and his eyes widened in shock—two silhouettes stood before him with tall spiky hair and low octopus-styled hair: Tsuna and Gokudera.

"What do you think you're doing, Yamamoto?" Tsuna's eyes were shockingly orange and sharp, as if he was a whole new different person, and a tiny flame flickered on his hair. "You're supposed to protect Namimori. Are you trying to escape responsibility?"

Yamamoto instinctively turned his back against the empty matter and faced the duo, snarling. "Tsuna, please_ shut _up_."_

"Tenth." Gokudera turned to his boss, tightening his grip on his water gun. "It seems like the monster has totally gotten inside his soul."

"Yeah." Tsuna's fist clenched. "The baby that you attacked yesterday was just a lingering spirit. You didn't cleanse it well, Gokudera."

"My apologies, tenth." Gokudera bowed.

"No, it's my fault for being arrogant," Tsuna said, monotonously.

Yamamoto sighed. "I don't really get you guys! You guys were talking as if you were serious! Are you guys crazy? Are you guys even real? You treat as if everything was real! The monster, the Yamamoto clan, and all that shit… I don't even know how to cope with all these stuffs! I really don't get it! I don't have anywhere to turn to and then you guys are…"

Yamamoto's voice trailed off. He slapped his hand against his face, a pit of regret knotted in his stomach.

Tsuna's eyebrows furrowed together. "I see... You're really possessed, Yamamoto. But don't you actually deny reality yourself?"

Yamamoto seemed taken aback by the statement. He took a step back, closing the gap between him and the sky again, except he was facing towards his friends.

"You knew well enough what eight-grade syndrome is." Gokudera placed his hands on his hips. "Yet you still wanted to join us, out of all people."

"Yamamoto," Tsuna's voice trailed rather sympathetically. "You're not alone." The brunette lent a hand and smiled gently. "Come, join us to fight the organization."

Yamamoto's eyes softened as he watched Tsuna's helping hand.

"If you don't want to, we can do it by force." Gokudera held the trigger of his water gun and struck a battle pose.

"We know you will never abandon your previous legacy, baseball," Tsuna followed. "But there are times you need to walk out of your comfort zone and give an aid to protect the world with your friends."

"Friends…" Yamamoto's voice was tight and he tried to hold his tears.

Yamamoto slowly tried to climb back behind the fence to reach Tsuna's hand, but then the fence wasn't able to support Yamamoto's weight, and his feet slipped.

"Baseball idiot!" Gokudera cried.

Yamamoto saw the faces of his friend shrink; he was flying, light and free.

_I want to be with them!_ his inner voice yelled. _This is not what I want!_

The crowd was yelling now and they all ran to try save Yamamoto.

Yamamoto thought he was falling down rather slowly, eyes fastened on the horror stricken faces of his two friends, who were approaching closer to the rooftop rear. He felt helpless—he needed to do something! Suddenly, a flicker of hope glinted at the corner of his eyes; he can't die now, he can't die on them!

And he just knew what to do.

"Comrades!" he yelled. "Send me back to the void of life!"

Without hesitation, Tsuna and Gokudera glanced at one another and nodded; they jumped and dove in the air. They quickly caught Yamamoto's flailing arms and grinned in satisfaction. Their weight accelerated their fall so Tsuna turned to his friends quickly.

"In a count of one to three, we need to initiate our special move."

"Special move?" Yamamoto inquired.

"Just do it, baseball idiot!" Gokudera cursed. "I don't want to die!"

Yamamoto looked taken aback, but then he gave his usual, genuine grin. "Alright, let's go!"

Tsuna nodded approvingly Yamamoto's change of mood, then turned to Gokudera. "Now Gokudera! Initiate Flame Arrow!"

Gokudera pulled the trigger of his water gun and then a stick of flickering dynamite was released, causing a massive explosion that sent the trio higher to the skies while Tsuna's hands were engulfed in white-orange flame.

"I'm going to make a flame parachute!" Tsuna cried weakly, energy used up on all the flames. "Gokudera, keep us in the sky longer with the dynamites!"

"Shit! I only have like four of them!" Gokudera said. "I need to at least hit them on an effective spot to send us higher and give enough time to make the parachute!"

"I can help." Yamamoto, to the duo's surprise, took out a baseball bat from under his shirt. "I was planning to die with my baseball bat on my coffin!" He laughed.

"Idiot." Gokudera's smile slipped between his lips. "Then Yamamoto, when I release the dynamite, hit it with all you got to an effective spot!"

"Roger!"

As Gokudera released another dynamite stick, Yamamoto hit the dynamite, sending it towards the closest window, and a huge explosion occurred, which propelled the trio towards the sky, only to found that gravity was stronger than them.

"Again!" Gokudera commanded.

Then, Yamamoto and Gokudera repeated the process until it was Gokudera's last dynamite, and just in time when Tsuna finished the fire parachute.

"Here we go!" Tsuna yelled. "You guys hold tight!"

"Aye!" Yamamoto and Gokudera yelled in unison.

"X Burner…" Tsuna murmured under his breath. "_Fire!"_

Finally, a wave of orange-flame emitted from Tsuna's hands, closing the gap between the trio and the ground.

"Yes!"

The crowds cheered and clapping hands emerged from the crowd. Just before Tsuna could land them safely to the surface, a stick of dynamite slipped from Gokudera's pocket. Tsuna and Yamamoto's face washed over with horror, and Gokudera stuck out his tongue.

"Sorry, tenth…"

"_Dammit, Gokudera!"_

Boom!

The explosion sent the trio towards the Namimori residence dump, over the crowd. The school courtyard was left with a deafening silence, until the principal clapped his hands.

"All right, the show's over." He shook his head in disbelief. "I believe it was just a drama properly executed by the eight-grade syndrome club. Let's proceed with our classes."

The students grumbled as they squeezed in through the school premises, opinions and compliments murmured within the crowd—commenting how cool the effect was, flames, bombs…and how realistic Yamamoto's suicide attempt seemed like.

While everybody else was already gone, three figures emerged between the trash dump right in front of the campus. Tsuna's tall-hair was the first that stood out.

"Ah! We're safe!"

"I'm alive!" Yamamoto exclaimed cheerfully.

"You almost killed us, idiot!" Gokudera rose from the garbage bags, spat at Yamamoto.

"It's your dynamite's fault, mister self-proclaimed uma," Yamamoto giggled.

"But overall, whose fault is that?"

Tsuna watched as his two friends bickered back and forth; even though their clothes and faces were stained by mud, their animated and enthusiasm was present on their faces.

Tsuna smiled warmly. "Let's skip school, guys." He looked towards the sky, which remained serene after all the chaos.

"Let's!" Gokudera agreed immediately. "Let's restore our mana, tenth! We'd used enough mana from our latest mission."

"You mean food?" Yamamoto asked.

Tsuna and Gokudera gaped, turned to each other, and flashed a grin at Yamamoto—the baseball idiot was one of their kind after all.

"Yeah!" Tsuna agreed. "Let's get the meat buns, shall we?"

* * *

**And that's how it is...the action is a bit weird and I'm working on action scenes writing...**

**Stay tuned, next week is next arc ^^ (Say, Hibari or Ryohei first? Or even Lambo...)**

**Please review^^**


	7. Now, to the EXTREME!

**A/N= This chapter is pretty short, since it is a development to a new arc. Sorry if it's boring, because like I said, it's a development chapter.**

**Please stay tuned ^^ Reviews are appreciated ^^**

* * *

The next day after school, Tsuna and Gokudera visited their clubroom, and their faces were left with disbelief.

Yamamoto was dressed like a ninja: a blue headband on his forehead and an orange jumpsuit. Hell, he looked like a raven-haired Naruto. Tsuna winced inwardly.

"Yo, Tsuna! Gokudera!" Yamamoto greeted them with his usual grin, ignorant with the fact that his friends were looking at him with dumbfounded expressions. "Do you guys know the show called Naruto?"

Gokudera slapped his hand against his face and hissed while cursing under his breath, and Tsuna just replied timidly, "Umm…of course. It was popular and used to be my favorite show."

"Oh, I just started streaming Naruto last night!" Yamamoto skipped in excitement, his headband falling off from his head. "I never knew anything about anime, so I tried to catch up with you guys!"

"Eight grade syndrome doesn't come from anime, idiot." Gokudera clicked his tongue in irritation.

"But it was like your source of imagination!" Yamamoto pouted, which made Gokudera growl in disgust.

While Gokudera and Yamamoto started their daily arguments, Tsuna flopped himself on the sofa nearby. He said to no one in particular, "It's almost the cultural festival."

The rumor of the 'Eight Grade Syndrome Drama' was known to the whole campus, which was thanks - not really - to Yamamoto's suicide scheme. The principal personally approached them to contribute the cultural festival this year, and Tsuna—it was the first time he was involved in these kind of things—had no idea what to present to the school; at least nobody thinks he is Dame-Tsuna anymore. They assumed all the flames and flying were an act, too…

"Tenth! Are we contributing to the festival?" Gokudera turned to his boss, smiling eagerly.

"Yeah." Tsuna scratched his head sheepishly. "I seriously have no idea what kind of scheme we should show to the school."

"Call forth the organization, tenth!" Gokudera pointed his finger upwards, doing some sort of battle pose.

"They will come soon, Gokudera," Tsuna whispered huskily, narrowing his sharp eyes and clenching his fist—or in other words, absorbed in his 'Bearer of Flames' role. "The ruckuses we've made last week have lit up their radar on our existence. We must build more support from civilians to empower our party."

"Umm…what are you guys talking about?" Yamamoto tilted his head.

"Exactly, tenth." Gokudera crossed his arms, amusement written on his face, as he ignored Yamamoto. "But, tenth, we need another party member in order to officially proceed with our mission."

"What do you mean?"

"According to the campus' rule book, a party will need at least four members in order to officially construct their own secret base," Gokudera said, matter-of-factly. "I am afraid, because of this, our secret base will be forced to disband, and by the means, we won't gain any support from anyone."

"Do you guys mean you need one more club member in order to keep our club?" Yamamoto rolled his eyes, inwardly sighing at his friends' bizarre conversation.

"Exactly!" Tsuna and Gokudera agreed in unison, facing Yamamoto.

Yamamoto crossed his arms, huffed, and his usual grin returned to his face. "Well, I believe we can recruit anyone! We just need to promote our club, that's all!"

"Promote?" Tsuna tilted his head, curious.

"Yup!" Yamamoto got to his feet and gestured his arms. "Like we can 'boom' and make fire effects and 'whoosh' so we can pretend we're running in super-sonic feet, and we can 'splash' as if we're having water effects—"

"You mean promoting our eight grade syndrome skills?" Tsuna asked, face gone pale.

"Yeah, that's what we have to do." Yamamoto blinked in confusion. "That's what this club does, right?"

Before Tsuna and Gokudera could ponder on Yamamoto's statement, a knock at the door broke the awkward silence.

"Do you have a guest, tenth?" Gokudera turned to Tsuna, quirking a brow.

"Nope, not at all." Tsuna got to his feet and walked towards the door, swinging it open.

Before him, a turf-head guy stood there—Tsuna didn't recognize him; he must be an upper or underclassman. His fist was covered with bandages along with his nose. Tsuna sweat dropped—how does a dangerous guy end up being in front of the club's doorstep?

"Um..ano…" Tsuna fiddled his fingers nervously. "What do you want?"

The guy seemed to not notice until Tsuna called him. He blinked his eyes in confusion and rubbed his head sheepishly. "Is this the eight-grade syndrome room to the extreme?"

Tsuna gulped. The way this guy talked was so eccentric that an uneasy feeling swelled up in Tsuna's chest; the type of uneasiness that usually meant trouble, which only involved with one person—the face of Reborn drifted in his mind.

"Y - Yes, senpai." Tsuna's voice was like a whisper, but the taller male nodded understandingly.

"Then I need to speak to Sawada, to the extreme." He trained his gaze to Tsuna, who was a few inches shorter than him.

_What the hell, this guy is looking for me! Could he be someone from the organization? _Tsuna reverted his eyes for help to his two allies—Gokudera and Yamamoto— who were currently having a sword-fight with two pairs of folded umbrellas; they were not helping either.

"I am Sawada Tsunayoshi, senpai." Tsuna tried to keep his voice neutral.

Slowly, the teenager's eyes flickered with spirit, and he immediately grabbed Tsuna's hand, shaking them with great vigor.

"_My name is Sasagawa Ryohei to the extreme!" _His voice was ten times raspier than Gokudera; Tsuna mentally cried. "_I came from the boxing club and I am extremely impressed with __the__ drama skit of the eight grade syndrome to the extreme! I have an extreme feeling that your extreme cooperation could be an extreme help to the extreme boxing club to the extreme!"_

Tsuna's head pounded painfully and his ears rang from Ryohei's loud voice. He could still hear the other's voice faintly echoing in the back of his mind—there was too many _extreme_ in one sentence that the brunet almost didn't get what Sasagawa had to say.

Sasagawa… The name sounded familiar for some reason.

Like a runaway cart, realization hit the brunet. His face flushed, heart racing interminably, and his hands dampened with cold sweat. Sasagawa...

"_Big brother!"_a high-pitched female voice echoed in the distance.

Speak of the devil…

A short, auburn-haired girl skipped cheerfully to the extreme boxer, who happened to be her brother and Tsuna's love interest, Sasagawa Kyoko.

"Oh, Kyoko!" Ryohei's voice softened and he turned to his sister, smiling. "What brings you here?"

"You left your towel again, brother," Kyoko grumbled, pouting. Tsuna thought it looked cute.

The beautiful maiden unzipped her bag and pulled out an orange towel, handing it to Sasagawa.

Ryohei accepted the towel and snaked it around his neck. "Okay, thanks a lot!"

Tsuna looked closer at the siblings as they chattered away happily in their own world. Sasagawa Kyoko was one of the most popular girls at school—she was probably the top five, or even the top. Tsuna, like any other guys, had his eyes on her. Despite his delusional abnormalities, Tsuna held feelings for Kyoko, which were the only gifts reality spared for him.

But Tsuna had given up his feelings a long time ago. Kyoko wouldn't notice a delusional, stupid boy like him. Tsuna's face fell as he thought about it. He couldn't even look into her mesmerizing and sweet brown eyes that reminded him of the beautiful sunset in the evening…

"Sawada-san?"

Tsuna blinked in surprise. Kyoko's face was a few inches away from him. Instinctively, the brunet pulled away in a comical manner, widening the gap between them, and his face was written with sheer disbelief.

"_Senorita!__" _the brunet yelped, blushing red.

"Eh? What's wrong, Sawada-kun?" Kyoko's face fell, assuming Tsuna was disgusted by her presence.

"Eh?" Tsuna realized the saddened expression on her face. "No, no, no! It's nothing! Um, hello, Kyoko-chan!"

_That was lame! _Tsuna schooled himself mentally.

By that simple statement, Kyoko giggled. She fiddled her fingers nervously and let her eyes meet the brunette. "I was really impressed with the drama you executed the other day, Sawada-kun!"

_Again, somebody mistook Yamamoto's suicide scheme as another drama! _Tsuna yelled to himself.

"Ah, thank you…?" Tsuna rubbed his head sheepishly, and behind him, Gokudera and Yamamoto peered behind the door, whispering to themselves suspiciously.

"The affection meter is rising…" Gokudera muttered, sharp eyes studying his bashful boss, who looked happy talking to his life-long crush.

"Uh-huh." Yamamoto nodded in agreement.

Ryohei, with his arms crossed over his chest, snapped out of his reverie.

"I've decided!" the white-haired upperclassman suddenly yelped, causing Tsuna and his friends to jerk in surprise. "Sawada, let me join the eight grade syndrome club temporarily!"

"Temporarily?" Tsuna raised his eyebrows curiously.

"Uh-huh, I need your help to the extreme!" Ryohei spoke in clarity. "I didn't know what eight grade syndrome club was to the extreme, but I believe it was something extremely reliable!"

Tsuna looked at Ryohei silently, too stunned to utter a word—this guy was worse than eight-grade syndrome effect itself.

"The boxing club is about to disband, to the extreme…" Ryohei's voice lowered, eyes sweeping across the floor. "That's why, I need your help to the extreme."


	8. Real Men Don't Cry

**a/n= I'm sorry I haven't update in a week! So sorry for the mini hiatus, I never intend to discontinue this story. The fun part had just begun...**

**Reviews and ratings are very appreciated ^^**

* * *

Tsuna pulled a comic book from his shelf.

Even though his English homework inside his backpack, blank and untouched, Tsuna let it slide for now—he could copy Gokudera tomorrow. His mind was full of thoughts, particularly Kyoko's _extremely _loud brother Ryohei.

"Dame-Tsuna, do your homework now." The last voice Tsuna wanted to hear snapped him from his reverie. Reborn approached him and in his hands was Tsuna's playstation portable; the baby was currently pausing in the middle of a certain fighting game—judging from the graphics, it must be Dissidia Final Fantasy, Tsuna told himself.

"Reborn, how can I help Kyoko's brother boxing club?" The words spilled from Tsuna's mouth without him realizing.

But the weight on his shoulders felt a lot lighter whenever he talked to Reborn, and he didn't have to spare the explanation since Reborn seemed to know everything Tsuna wanted to talk about from certain unknown resources…

"Why do you ask me?" Reborn asked the question as if it was obvious; a vein popped on Tsuna's temple, which was unusual.

"Stop playing around, Reborn!" The edginess in his voice surprised himself, yet he kept going. "This is Sasawaga we're talking about, Kyoko's big brother. I need to make an impression so Kyoko can notice me!"

Reborn sighed at the sheer desperation tainted in Tsuna's protest. The baby clicked his tongue in irritation and said, "Just do something you consider best. Like do the things that you thought you could do."

"Which is?"

"Eight grade syndrome shit, what else?" Reborn flailed his baby-sized arms in the air while his eyes remained neutral.

Tsuna sighed and flopped against his bed, bouncing on the mattress. "Why, Reborn…" his voice indicated he wanted to cry. "I don't like this. Why always eight grade syndrome?"

"It's your fate, after all," Reborn said definitely.

"But, but…" Tsuna was about to protest.

"You better stop denying your sickness for goddamn sake," Reborn said edgily. "You have gained comrades in the process, and now you're about to get another one. Tsuna, there's not much time left for you to fight the organization."

"I know, I know!" Tsuna kicked his feet in the air. "But this is Kyoko I'm talking about."

They shared the next minutes in silence. Tsuna thought if Kyoko was exposed to his eight-grade syndrome, she would never ever see Tsuna as a normal person, heck, even as her boyfriend. It was obvious, but Tsuna didn't want it to really happen—he didn't want to rub the salt on his wound.

Suddenly, Reborn switched off his PSP, took his Leon gun, and plucked a dying will bullet. He approached Tsuna and said, "I let you have this for now." Reborn handed the tiny bullet to Tsuna. "This is a test. I will let you do what's best."

Tsuna reluctantly took the bullet and scrutinized it carefully, as if it was a new type of grenade. He turned to Reborn, who was climbing up to his hammock that he slept in.

"Thank you, Reborn." Tsuna smiled at him. "For trusting me."

And Tsuna really meant it what he said, genuinely. Trust from the annoying, intellectual home tutor from his house was the thing he needed the most—it was his life after all.

So basically, Tsuna caught the context of what Reborn was trying to tell him.

"_Do you want to use eight grade syndrome or not? The choice is all yours."_

The following afternoon, Ryohei was present in the clubroom before the three members had arrived. Gokudera began to blame Yamamoto for forgetting to lock the clubroom the day before, which Yamamoto laughed at in response.

"I'm sorry to the extreme." Ryohei bowed, resting his forehead on his hands.

Tsuna sweat dropped and politely begged Ryohei to stand. "It's fine, Sasagawa-san!"

"If you have something to barter for, then we will do the mission," Gokudera said particularly to no one, crossing his arms grumpily over his chest.

"We will do it if you have the seven dragon balls," Yamamoto chuckled, applying a blob of gel to his hair to make it spiky like Goku; Gokudera looked at him in disgust.

Ryohei was too focused on his own thoughts and turned to Tsuna. "Sawada, the boxing club is in big trouble."

"W - What kind of trouble?" Tsuna tilted his head, curious.

"I'm the vice president of the boxing club." Ryohei was unexpectedly composed. "We were about to recruit the first and second years in order to prevent the club from closing, but then…"

Ryohei's eyes wandered to the ground, hiding his darkened features. Tsuna's eyebrows arched in concern and he felt pity for his senpai; the thought that the brunet could help his upperclassmen flickered in his mind.

"The three members in my club are extremely intimidating towards the first and second years to the extreme!" Ryohei's got to his knees; there was a hint of anger in his voice. "They keep beating up the boys in the lower grade and even harassed a few girls in the second year!"

Tsuna's eyes widened in shock—how terrible—and anxiety churned inside him. So are these rude and perverted third years the ones Tsuna needed to take care of? The thought of it made Tsuna wanted to puke…

"Boxing is extremely important to me." Ryohei smiled. "It indicates that you have the pride of a man."

Tsuna slapped his own face inwardly—Ryohei didn't have to rub it in Tsuna's face!

"But the drama show you guys executed a few weeks ago was extreme." A hint of enthusiasm shimmered in Ryohei's grey eyes. "You guys are real men, including you, Sawada."

A faint blush glowed on Tsuna's cheeks; butterflies fluttered in his stomach when the words flowed from Ryohei's mouth. It had been a while since he felt like he had received a great and rare honor.

Suddenly, the urge to encounter Ryohei's threatening friends lit up inside Tsuna. Ryohei's praise, which indicated trust, fueled Tsuna to help the older boy. He will use his eight-grade syndrome if he had to; it was for Ryohei's sake after all.

And to prove that he wasn't useless.

"I'll help." Tsuna's voice was filled with sheer assurance and his eyes glowed with pride.

Ryohei eyes widened at the sudden change of demeanor and he nodded in agreement. "I owe you one, Sawada."

As Tsuna and Ryohei was about to head to the boxing room, Tsuna realized that he forgot about Gokudera and Yamamoto. He turned to them.

"Gokudera-kun, Yamamoto, we're going."

Tsuna gaped at the sight before him.

Yamamoto's spiky hair was arched like a tower; similar to Sasuke's from Naruto. The same went with Gokudera: his silver hair was awkwardly spiky and sloppy and a blue headband covered his forehead. To Tsuna's dismay, Yamamoto and Gokudera were cosplaying as Sasuke and Naruto respectively, engaged in their battle pose.

"_Sasuke!" _Gokudera yelled.

"_Naruto!" _Yamamoto screamed.

…

_Fuck__._Tsuna slapped a hand against his forehead.

"Wow, you guys sure are energetic and creative to the extreme," Ryohei commented.

Then, Tsuna thought if his life could only get shorter.

The four boys went to the next floor and stopped in front of the boxing room. Behind the door, they heard laughter and giggle and Ryohei's brows twitched with unease.

"What the heck is going on to the extreme?"

Suddenly, the gang heard a high-pitched voice amongst the manly laughter.

"_Big brother!"_

A pang of fear hit Tsuna…

_Kyoko!_

"Dammit, is that Kyoko's voice?" Ryohei said in panic.

Without further hesitation, Tsuna opened the door and barged in to the room.

In the room were three bulky men, intimidating and with an unfriendly aura. They were third years, like Ryohei, and in one corner of the room, Kyoko was pinned against the wall by one of the guys, crying.

"_Kyoko!" _Ryohei's voice peaked up as he clenched his fist in anger.

"Big…Brother…" Kyoko sobbed invulnerably; the guy that pinned her chuckled.

"Oh, there you are, Ryohei." The guy smirked. "Your sister is quite a cutie. She came here and asked 'Where is my brother' and we found it cute so" – he leaned in closer to Kyoko's quivering face with a grin – "we decided to play a little, you know? Hope you don't mind."

The other two guys laughed while holding their stomachs, and Tsuna was nearly falling off the edge. The brunet walked forward and boldly declared, "Let go of Kyoko, you perverted bastards!"

Ryohei, Gokudera, Yamamoto, and everyone else in the room were left in disbelief. Tsuna, frail, short and weak, just cursed the three strongest men in the campus right in their faces. Kyoko, on the other hand, couldn't help but smile.

"Tsuna-kun…"

Tsuna blushed, and he was fueled with an increasing resolve—he was going to save Kyoko now.

"What the hell is your problem, kiddo?" The guy let go of Kyoko's hand and slowly approached the brunet, loomed over the smaller boy who had to tilt his heads upwards in order to meet the boy in the eye.

Tsuna quickly grabbed Reborn's bullet from his pocket and squeezed it hard against his hand so the bullet could pierce his skin - and it did. A flow of blood trailed from Tsuna's wrist.

"Tenth! What's wrong?" Gokudera asked frantically, noticing the red liquid spilling from his boss's hand.

"Asahi, beat him now!" the other two guys cheered.

Asahi craned his head, cracked knuckles, and grinned at the brunet. "You'll go to hell, little shrimp!"

Just as Asahi's iron fist swung towards Tsuna's temple, his attack was blocked by Tsuna's grip, and the brunet narrowed his eyes at him, sharp and orange.

"Who's going to hell, bastard?" Tsuna's voice was monotonous and low. "I am the bearer of the flames. I'm not going to forgive a man who let his dirty hands on an innocent woman."

"You piece of shit!" Asahi let go immediately and flew backwards. "All right then, we will take this seriously."

Asahi charged at the brunet with both of his fists raised, but Tsuna remained in his spot. When Asahi's fist approached Tsuna in lightning speed, Tsuna evaded it easily.

"You're weak," Tsuna chuckled darkly, and his lips pursed into a smile when he saw an opening. The brunet lunged forward and pummeled Asahi's chest, sending the bigger male to the wall.

"You…" Asahi wiped the blood from his lips and charged at Tsuna again. Tsuna was about to give him another punch until Asahi's hand caught brunet's fist.

"Is that all you can do?" Asahi said with a pained grin.

He twisted Tsuna's arm, causing the brunet to wince in pain. Tsuna instinctively used his other hand to break free, but unfortunately, Asahi's comrades grabbed the brunet by the collar from the back.

"Dammit!" the brunet spat angrily.

"Now…" Asahi glowered at the brunet. "Should I start from your head, arms, leg, or your crotch?"

Gokudera yelled, "The fuck is wrong with this guy?"

"We need to help, Gokudera." Yamamoto's expression was deadly serious and Gokudera nodded in agreement.

Gokudera grabbed a few dynamites from inside of his shirt. "Dynamite Version: Hecate Uma X."

Yamamoto took his baseball bat and did a battle pose. "Shigure Souen…"

One of Asahi's comrades laughed. "What is this? Are you little boys playing around? Asahi, it's gonna be fun!"

All of a sudden, Asahi and his friends let go of Tsuna—the brunet sank to the floor, panting.

"Alright then, Sawada," Asahi hissed. "We can do this three-on-three…"

Tsuna, wincing, looked up at Asahi. "Y - Yeah, sure…"

"The winner will get Sasagawa's sister!" Asahi declared; Kyoko's brows twitched uneasily as she trembled in the corner.

Ryohei, who felt useless, prayed to himself.

"Please win, Sawada."


	9. Extreme Last Words

Tsuna took Gokudera's offering hand and got to his feet, frowning.

"I'm sorry." Tsuna rubbed his head sheepishly. "I was so useless back there…"

Gokudera shook his head frantically and smiled at the brunet. "It's fine, tenth!" An expression filled with resentment stained Gokudera's face. "Damn it… How dare they do such a thing? Such insolent human beings!"

Tsuna sweat dropped. _Gokudera-kun, you__'__re a human__, __too!_

Yamamoto stepped forward, scowling —Tsuna thought Asahi's behavior seemed to push Yamamoto's friendly aura to the edge.

"Tsuna," Yamamoto's voice was surprisingly stern. "Let's go beat those guys up."

Tsuna's eyes widened and exchanged glances between his two comrades—Gokudera and Yamamoto looked serious and all ready to fight—which reminded Tsuna of the incident on the rooftop; Tsuna hoped he could get used to this.

Then Tsuna clenched his fist in resolution. He closed his eyes momentarily, pondering on how much his friends cared about him. One more time, Tsuna will fight and teach Asahi a lesson, and free Kyoko from her misery.

"Thank you!" Tsuna nodded to his friends, grinning. "Now let's kick some butts."

Somewhere on the corner of the ceiling, Reborn had positioned himself with a sniper in hand, his tiny eyes adjusted to the opening hole. The little baby smirked naughtily.

_You owe me one this time, dame-Tsuna,_ Reborn mentally told him and pulled the trigger. In a millisecond, the bullet flew out of his sniper and sunk in Tsuna's head. The moment the bullet broke through his skull, Tsuna sunk to his knees, gaping.

Gokudera and Yamamoto widened their eyes as they dashed towards the brunet.

"Tenth, is something wrong?" Gokudera's raspy voice could be heard faintly in the distance.

"Tsuna!"followed by Yamamoto's voice.

The world around Tsuna seemed to be wrapped around by darkness, as if he was blindfolded. Then suddenly, he opened his eyes and felt a burst of energy fuel inside him.

He clenched his fists, feeling a powerful force in his palms. It seemed like they were ten times stronger and harder. Then he noticed it must be the effect of the bullet that Reborn shot him with.

"Fight with your dying will, Tsuna," Reborn indirectly whispered to the brunet and left without a trace.

Gokudera sunk to his knees, taking his boss by the arm. "Tenth…are you okay?"

Tsuna blinked in confusion, yet he nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Asahi crossed his arms, scoffing bitterly. "Damn it, look at these brats. Why do they have to be so dramatic before a battle? They just didn't want to admit their defeat."

Mocking laughter swept amongst Asahi and his crowd, and Tsuna and his team glared at them in disgust, gradually having the urge to beat Asahi and his friends to a pulp. Tsuna was the first one to charge, which left Gokudera and Yamamoto to ponder on Tsuna's reckless attitude.

"You _assholes!_" Tsuna's voice peaked and he balled his fist, slamming it on Asahi's left breast.

Asahi spit blood. The fat brunet slumped against the cold, tiled floor. He rubbed his breast, wincing bitterly. Then he turned to Tsuna and flashed him a murderous gaze, gritting his teeth.

_What the hell… Why did you become so strong all of a sudden? _Asahi asked himself inwardly. He accusingly pointed to Tsuna and the gang and shouted, "Kill those bastards!_"_

With that one simple command, his comrades charged at Tsuna and the gang like a pack of wolves running towards a herd of sheep.

A tall blonde named Kise—one of Asahi's followers—approached Gokudera with a steel dumbbell. He yelled as he gradually enclosed the gap between him and the silveret.

Gokudera twisted two dynamite sticks offhandedly and said, "Is that all you can do? I expected something more from you champions."

Then Gokudera tossed the dynamite at Kise and the bomb exploded under Kise's feet. Smoke filled the room and Gokudera chuckled victoriously. "Boxing Member Number Three, annihilated!"

Then Gokudera rolled his eyes when he saw a figure emerge from the smoke. Kise briskly approached him, fresh blood present all over his uniform. The blonde gripped the dumbbell and threw it at Gokudera's head.

Gokudera ducked and let the steel object fly pass him. "Dammit!"

As Gokudera and Kise were about to charge one another again, Yamamoto was sparring with his baseball bat against Rei, another one of Asahi's comrades. Rei, who was a member of both the boxing club and the track team, held his track pole over him to shield himself against Yamamoto's bat.

"This scene isn't beautiful," the blue-haired brunet mumbled huskily. "Are you trying to play sword-fight with baseball bat? You don't have any style, boy."

Rei's taunt didn't affect Yamamoto; instead, the baseball player grinned. "A true swordman will spar with anything he has! I am the guardian of the Yamamoto clan after all."

_The fuck? _Rei was stupefied for a moment and paused in his step.

"Got you," Yamamoto said curtly and swayed his baseball bat against Rei's chest, sending the brunet flew against the floor.

Rei growled in pain, held his stomach, and passed out shortly after. Yamamoto whistled victoriously—he didn't expect to take down a boxing member so easily; maybe Rei was forced to join the club?

On the other side, Tsuna had easily defeated the biggest member of the group. He studied his hands carefully, tainted with Yamada's blood. He _really _wondered what kind of bullet Reborn had shot to him; it was menacing.

Ryohei quietly sneaked through the battle-zone and took a hold of Kyoko in his arms, embracing her tightly.

"Big brother," Kyoko sobbed on his collar. "I'm so scared!"

Ryohei nodded in understanding. "Thank goodness, Kyoko." The white-haired male turned towards the battle-zone and clenched his fist. Suddenly, he unwrapped the bandages from his knuckles, showing off his tanned fingers. He turned to Kyoko. "Wait for me."

Ryohei dashed to the battle and decided to approach Kise and Gokudera. Gokudera seemed to be in a pinch…

_Think__,__ Ryohei, think, _Ryohei advised himself. The scene of Tsuna and his friends in the clubroom reciting weird lines and eccentric acting drifted to his mind, and suddenly Ryohei's eyes lit up as if a light bulb popped beside his head.

"Wait for me, octopus-head!" Ryohei screamed to his fullest, and balled his fist towards Kise's back.

Then he recited, "Maximum Cannon!"

His earthly punch cracked a bone on Kise's back and the blonde sunk to the ground with a yelp, unconscious. Gokudera looked at the falling body, gaping.

"I finally did it!" Ryohei flashed a brash grin at Gokudera. "I can act like an eight-grade syndrome victim now!"

Gokudera's dumbfounded expression was quickly replaced by anger. "Shut up! Eight-grade syndrome is not an act, turf-head!"

"I don't get what you're trying to imply, octopus-head!" Ryohei replied, and soon the boys bickered to no end with their new nicknames.

After all the members had been annihilated, Tsuna approached Asahi, who was trembling. Asahi, knew well how powerful Tsuna's fist is, trembled on the corner.

"Please…don't!_" _Asahi said pleadingly, getting to his knees. _"_Please! Please! Take everything you want! Never come back again! Please!"

When Tsuna halted above him, Asahi yelped desperately and begged on his knees. Unexpectedly, a helping hand was offered to him instead, and Asahi looked at it as if it was the hand of a goddess. Tsuna smiled warmly at him and whispered, "Get up. I think it was enough to beat up your comrades."

Asahi's gaze flicked towards Tsuna and his hand. He hesitated, but he took Tsuna's hand anyway and stood up.

"Thank you," Asahi said curtly.

Suddenly Tsuna grabbed him by the collar and glared at him with his wide, sharp, brown eyes. "If you touch my comrades, I will not hesitate."

Asahi yelped, "I promise! I promise! Please! Let me go already!"

A few hours later, the four bandits were taken to the health center to heal themselves. Gokudera threatened them to tell the nurse that they had picked a fight with a gang from another campus and got beaten up instead or else they would be beaten up again by the silveret. Yamamoto simply dismissed them with a friendly "Get well soon".

Ryohei, as the captain of the boxing club, dismissed his team completely. He said, "You guys didn't belong here in the extreme." Ryohei's voice was dark. "I want you guys to find the right club for yourself."

The four members looked at him, shocked. Asahi—the vice captain—tilted his head downwards and said, "Well, Sasagawa, I don't expect you to be this serious when you start this boxing shit. But you don't have to dismiss us…"

"I will close the boxing club to the extreme," Ryohei interrupted. "The boxing club is supposed to be filled with true men. But you guys don't belong here."

"Are you saying we're not real men?" Asahi said, eyes filled with raw anger.

Despite Asahi's intimidating attitude, Ryohei shook his head. "No, I want you guys to find your manly attitude in other clubs. We are all men in general. Each of us have our manly side to the extreme. So what I want is for you guys to go to another club and find your manly identity. You guys will never know who you are until you find it."

The four boys eyes slowly widened and they all looked at him in awe. Rei—the weakest member and the only second year—sobbed. "Thank you, senpai."

Ryohei flopped himself on a nearby bench and looked at each of his members thoughtfully. He directed at Rei, "I think you're suited for the swimming club. Your friends are all there didn't you?" Then he switched to Kise, Yamada, and Asahi. "Kise, I see you peering in the basketball court often. Yamada, why don't you take the computer programming club instead? And, Asahi, your figure is compatible to be a wing spiker in the volleyball club."

Soon, the four boys thanked their upperclassman genuinely. Tsuna, Yamamoto, and Gokudera stood in front of the clinic room, leaning against the door.

"Everything ends well, huh?" Yamamoto turned to both of his friends with a smile.

"It's all thanks to tenth!" Gokudera said with pride, and glared at Yamamoto. "You did the least out of all of us! You're lucky you beat up the weakest member. That doesn't count."

"Well, at least I didn't get Sasagawa-senpai to save my ass." Yamamoto let out a tongue, grinning.

Gokudera hesitated and flushed.

Tsuna turned to his friends and said. "Sasagawa-san is very mature, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Yamamoto agreed. "He even said those kind words to four brats. It's unusual to find those kind of people these days."

Suddenly the clinic door swayed open and Ryohei strode out of the room with a burning aura.

"I dismissed boxing club to the extreme!" Ryohei yelled loudly. "I decide to join the manly, eight-grade syndrome club!"

Gokudera growled. "What?!"

Tsuna exclaimed, "Are you sure, Sasagawa-san?"

Ryohei nodded vehemently. "Yeah! To the extreme!"

"On the bright side, we have four members now!" Yamamoto crossed his hands behind his back. "We are an official club now."

And that's how The Eight Grade Syndrome club established to be an official club. But that's only the beginning of everything before everything goes wild, which may exceed Tsuna's expectation.


	10. Prefect's Secret!

**a/n= thank you for all the rates and reviews ^^ I really appreciated it.**

**Well some of you might dislike this chapter since I add a new plot device...I really hope some of you don't mind...**

**Please R&R ^^**

* * *

Another week had passed since the boxing club incident. Ryohei had officially joined the Eight Grade Syndrome club to Tsuna's disbelief, and of course, Ryohei—who wasn't an eight-grade syndrome victim in particular—strangely able to fit in with the rest of the crew.

Well more like desperately trying to fit in…. (Without looking awkward.)

"_Sawada!" _Ryohei's raspy voice, as usual, filled the room with live. "Look at me! I am an eight-grade syndrome victim to the extreme!"

Tsuna, for the umpteenth time, lazily shifted his attention towards his upperclassmen, who was trying a bunch of cosplay sets from certain anime. He borrowed them all from Yamamoto, who mysteriously possessed all these kinds of stuffs.

Ryohei put on a straw hat and extended his arms as if it will stretch like a rubber band.

"Look Sawada! Are we going to seek for the _One piece?_"

Tsuna—trying to be polite—replied rather weakly, but smiling. "Of course, after we get to know the information of the organization…"

"Oh! Will the organization trying to get their hands on one piece as well?" Ryohei asked brightly, expecting an answer.

Tsuna sweat dropped, and timidly replied. "Umm….that is the reason why we're trying to find that out!"

"Well then, we don't have much time." Yamamoto's voice piped up—the raven-haired male was holding three swords—two swords on his scabbard and one leaned against his shoulder—Tsuna guessed he must've cosplaying Zorro…

Gokudera draped himself on the clubroom's couch, reading an alien-like comic book that was targeted for five-year-old brats. He mumbled darkly, frowning. "_Cih…_autistic fools."

Yamamoto innocently approached the silver haired teenager, and the baseball idiot shoved a huge toy box to the silveret, who looked at the item in disgust.

"What the hell is that?" Gokudera asked rudely, blowing his cigarette.

"Take one," Yamamoto skipped on the spot. "Take one costume!"

Gokudera got to his sitting position and tossed his comic. A vein popped up on his head. "You're kidding me! Don't put me in with your games, Yamamoto!"

Yamamoto, as usual, laughed. "Well then, you're the president of this club, after all." The baseball teenager rolled his eyes naughtily, smirking. "It's not like the president has anything better to do, isn't he?"

With that, Gokudera snatched a nearby table clock, and succumbed to a battle pose. The silveret let out a devilish grin, chuckling bitterly. "Alright then, as the president, I will test your eight-grade syndrome skills, Yamamoto Takeshi!"

Suddenly, Yamamoto's angelic expression swapped into devilish spirit, as if the male had dual personality inside him. Yamamoto's eyes were sharp, focusing on Gokudera. "Well then, I'm ready."

"Woah! A manly battle was going on to the extreme!" Ryohei's voice piped up on the background, and the white-haired senpai started cheering them with his 'Extreme' and other kinds of ear-deafening screams—which ended up ignored.

While Gokudera was rolling behind the sofa and holding the table clock in an alarming manner, Yamamoto was crouching behind the desk Tsuna was sitting in, peering towards Hayato's glare closely.

Tsuna, yawning, said dismissively. "Come on come on, attack each other."

Suddenly, Gokudera hopped from his hiding spot and lunged to Yamamoto, screaming. "Flame Arrow! Version 2!"

Of course, Gokudera never emit real flames, except Gokudera was making fire sound effects himself, which reminded Tsuna of the '_choo choo'_ train in _Thomas and Friends._

Yamamoto grabbed a nearby broomstick and held it in front of him, resisting Gokudera's strong push.

"Your strength is spectacular, Minister Uma V," Yamamoto smiled in acknowledgement, eyes narrowing. "But it was only a matter of time before I, Generation XXI of the Yamamoto Guardian, take you down. For now, this is just a warm up."

"You don't have to remind me that, asshole." Gokudera smirked, obviously playing along.

As Yamamoto and Gokudera started filling the room with 'choo choo' noises and Jacky Chan or Bruce Lee martial arts sound effects, Tsuna slumped himself against the desk, and started nodding off…

This was the daily life of the Eight-grade syndrome club—he needed to remind himself.

To his surprise, Ryohei quietly settled himself beside the sleepy brunet, and he was holding something peculiar, a book? Tsuna never knew that Ryohei reads…

"Umm…_onii-san?_" Tsuna called him with the particular nickname Ryohei had proposed to him. "What is that book?"

"Beats me to the extreme," Ryohei craned his head, contemplating on it. "I just find it on the sofa turf-head sat before. It's not his comic book though…"

Indeed it wasn't. The book has a hardcover that reminds Tsuna of the thick-fat books of reprinted copies he saw on the bookstore. To his surprise, the book's cover was empty, and there was a small writing '_by Misty Pineapple'_ on the lower right.

Suddenly, a light bulb popped up into Tsuna's head, and a lightheaded feeling stirred up inside him. "Ah…I know this book…"

"What is it?" Ryohei leaned closer to the brunet, curious.

Tsuna's cheeks were flaring with excitement as he felt a new burst of energy fueled inside him—getting excited over a book that doesn't belong to him. The brunet replied brightly. "Misty Pineapple was a famous online author!"

"Oh, you mean like those stuffs called fanfictions that Kyoko read?" Ryohei asked.

Tsuna shook his head, smiling. "Nope, it's more than that. This book tells us how the world began, or in other words, reformation and revelation. Except…this was written for eight-grade syndrome victims."

"Oh?"

"So this Misty guy came up with a theory of how the world began, like _'The world was unified by seven magical pacifiers that belonged to Arcobalenos.' _" Tsuna retold the story as if nostalgia slapped him in the face.

"Arcobaleno, such a unique name to the extreme." Ryohei commented thoughtfully.

"That itself tells us this Misty guy is a genius!" Tsuna squealed in excitement—fanboying? "Even though these are all fictions, Misty is able to make them all so believable to the extend that some eight-grade syndromes mistook it for a bible."

Ryohei chuckled, pointing at it. "How do you know about this Misty guy, Sawada?"

Tsuna paused, and in a moment, a rush of his childhood memories flooded into his mind. Tsuna casted a dramatic gaze to the ceiling, a small smile formed on his lips. "Well, when I was younger, I used to read Misty's online blogs, and that's how I got into eight grade syndrome."

When Tsuna was younger, the brunet will always hopped to his computer desk after school and looked up into Misty's blogs, instead of doing his homework. Tsuna was socially awkward, and he was often dragged in to bullies and mocking from his classmates. Because of that, the brunet had been living his life looking backwards—got discouraged because of his lack of social life, and his very low grades that caused people to called him 'Dame-Tsuna'...

But whenever he read Misty's blogs, all the harsh reality had vanished and he will be engaged into the world Misty had created in his blog. He remembered one quote…

"_When evil had came to the world, the gods and angels desperately tried to get rid of it. Until one day, they sent the __**Bearer of the Flames**__, the warrior who will burn the world with the flames of justice."_

Tsuna's eyes widened as the word from the computer screen reflected to his eyes. Then a hot feeling swarmed inside his chest; he will be this flame bearer…

Ever since then, Tsuna's 'delusional' reality had got in the way of his life and the brunet start behaving as if he was the flame bearer—reciting Misty's prophecies in public, using random objects as weapons and start speaking in sophisticated languages….which drove his parents crazy as he got older.

But Tsuna couldn't deny the fact that…

He was saved by eight-grade syndrome.

Gokudera and Yamamoto, who were his first friends he'd in his life, was by his side right now because of that symptom…

"Woah, I see," Ryohei snapped Tsuna out of his reverie. "So if I read this, can I get eight-grade syndrome too?"

Tsuna yelped, stunned. "Onii-san, shouldn't you be grateful for not getting that syndrome in the first place?"

"But I want to be a real man to the extreme!"

"Having eight-grade syndrome doesn't make you a real man!"

"Well by the way Sawada, is that your book?"

Tsuna halted, and his eyes slowly shifted towards the book. The brunet craned his head, flipping through the pages. "Now that you speak of it…does anyone leave it here?"

"Well, it doesn't belong to the octopus head or Takeshi," Ryohei added. "Doesn't belong to mine either."

"Yeah," Tsuna nodded in agreement, looking at the book thoughtfully.

"Does that mean it belongs to an outsider?" Gokudera's voice piped up in the conversation—it seemed like he's done with his eight-grade syndrome exercise.

"But who has eight-grade syndrome besides us?" Yamamoto added.

Then it was silence.

The four boys traded suspicious glances, but they momentarily shook their heads thoughtfully. An uneasy feeling burnt inside Tsuna, who was thinking that a suspicious outsider—no, it could be the organization, setting up a trap to the crew in order to find the owner of this book.

Then, someone knocked the door.

The boys' hearts skipped a beat, stunned. They mentally discussed who will opened the door through eye contact—Gokudera elbowed Yamamoto, and the raven haired immediately swayed the door opened with a smile.

"Good afternoon! Welcome to the eight grade syndrome club!" he said the name with pride.

Before them, a tall, bulky man with stick-like hair stood before them. In a flash, panic flooded into Yamamoto's face, turning his tanned face bleached white. It was none other than the Disciplinary Committee member, Tetsuya Kusakabe. Anyone would've noticed with his uniformed hairstyle, which served as a warning of trouble—it's the disciplinary president's right hand man after all, the stuck up, selfish Hibari Kyoya.

"H-Hello…" Yamamoto rubbed his head. "How can I help you?"

Surprisingly, Kusakabe bowed his head politely. "I'm sorry to intrude your afternoon peace, eight-grade syndrome club."

In an instant, the boys' edginess towards Hibari's right hand man vanished. Tsuna believed it was because his fearful boss wasn't by his side…

"It's fine sir!" Tsuna was the first one to answer him nervously.

"Kusakabe is fine." Kusakabe bowed again.

"Yes, Kusakabe…" Tsuna's voice trailed awkwardly. Boy, this man was very polite…

Kusakabe stride in to the room and turned to Tsuna. "Excuse me, have you seen a book?"

Tsuna immediately walked to his desk and handed it to the stick-haired man. "Ah! Is this the one you're looking for?"

Kusakabe took the book and held it fondly to his arms. "Thank you so much, I was afraid the book will get to the wrong hands…"

"Umm…" Tsuna spoke up. "Is that book belongs to you, Kusabe-san? If it was, where can I get it? Because as far as I know, Misty never releases a book, he only posted them online…"

Kusakabe looked taken aback for a second, eyes glowered. Afraid of Kusakabe's outburst, Tsuna regretted his question for a moment. Not to mention, his comrades behind him stood motionless, as if they were statues. Tsuna felt his heart stopped for a moment, and he couldn't even tell if his friends' were trying to held their own breath.

But then, a light smile formed on Kusakabe's lips. The right-hand man replied. "Nope, it belongs to the boss. Yes, you're right Misty only wrote his posts online, but the boss had written all of his journals into one book, and bind them to a hardcover. I assume this book was very important to the boss…"

Before Kusakabe could finish, Tsuna sweat dropped…

Wait! Wait! What does he meant when Hibari actually wrote all of the journals and make them into a personal book? Tsuna shifted his glance to his comrades and Kusakabe back and forth. Yamamoto, Gokudera and Ryohei were also left with dumbfounded expression, as if they had heard the world's end sentence.

"Umm…. can I ask one question?" Tsuna timidly asked Kusakabe.

"Yes, go ahead." Kusakabe nodded in acknowledgement.

"Does Hibari have eight-grade syndrome?"

Kusakabe rolled his eyes in shock, but then a small smile graced to his lips. "You're sharp aren't you, Sawada Tsunayoshi."


	11. Breaking Masks & Talking Birds

**a/n= Hello! How many weeks haven't I update again? It feels so long...**

**Thank you for the favorites and reviews! Follows had reached hundred! Thank you for keeping my story alive and those people who constantly giving me reviews on every chapter, thank you very much! (You know who you are XD)**

**This chapter is un-beta'd yet, and I'm very sorry. The beta one will up in a few days. And there is a little bit of violence in this chapter ^^"""**

**Please rate & review**

* * *

After all the students of Namimori emerged out of the school gate, Hibari Kyoya drew the curtains close, trapping the yellow, pale light from filling the room. The prefect flopped to the nearby couch, sipping a cup of coffee while his tiny, yellow canary bird planted itself between his shoulders.

"What is it, chimera?" Hibari tilted his head to the little animal, acknowledging it.

The little bird—Hibird or Chimera, sighed inwardly—if only birds could sigh. It had gotten used to her new name. The canary could only chirped its high-pitched voice to respond.

"Hibari, Hibari!" it chirped —Hibari thought it was cute enough to ease his temper.

"Yeah, I understand you." A tiny smirk slipped through Hibari's lips. "You're telling me we should hunt more herbivores, huh?"

"_No master, I advise you to meet another psychologist before you mistook the students for monsters in the dungeon!" _Hibird chirped helplessly, wishing it could reach its words to her delusional master.

"All right then, let's go home. It's late," Hibari said. "I need to eliminate the homework Mr. Herbivore had given us this afternoon."

The prefect made his way to the door and finally slammed the door shut. Hibird flapped its wings and his feet landed on the window rear, staring at the retreating figure. Even though she was just an animal, she'd been with the prefect for almost ten years; sometimes Hibird wondered if she's a better guardian than Tetsuya Kusakabe was.

Before the little bird could retreat home to her companions, a familiar, baby voice piqued her interest.

"You're Hibird, aren't you?"

The little canary bird halted its wings before flying. Obviously understood human language, the bird dived to the source of the voice—a baby with a mafia hat stood before her, smirking.

"I read your heart, chimera."

Hibird flapped its wings furiously, shaking its head wildly as if the name 'chimera' could burst its tiny brain any moment.

"Fine, Hibird." Reborn chuckled bitterly. "You're close with Hibari aren't you?"

The little canary bird wanted to reply, but it only tilted its head in acknowledgement, saying yes—probably.

"Then, I need you to do me a favor." Reborn transformed his chameleon to his signature green gun, pointing to the bird. The little bird could only stared, even though Hibird was sure her eyes widened in shock, inwardly.

"Don't worry," Reborn said amusingly. "You will be paid."

The night had been peaceful for Tsuna. Reborn was shockingly absent, but the little baby left a note for the brunet—saying he was going home to Italy for mafia business. Tsuna felt relieved, it wasn't as if the brunet was going to miss him.

After doing his homework—with Gokudera's help through the phone—and trying to watch the first episode of Sword Art Online—from Yamamoto's recommendation since the title hooked the baseball idiot, Tsuna turned off the lights and drifted to sleep.

The brunet tossed and turned, a swell of anxiety grew inside him. Then, the brunet grabbed torchlight and planted it above his pillow, switched it on, and rummaged his schoolbag on a ripped paper.

It was the page from Misty Pineapple book, about his role as the _Bearer of the Flames._

Even though Tsuna was sure he'd read Hibari's messy scribbles for the thousandth time, the brunet will never got bored of the content because this delusional passage is what made Tsuna the person he was today. Tsuna grimaced, thinking and contemplating that Hibari Kyoya, the self-doting prefect also got eight-grade syndrome. A little bit of him had the urge to pull the prefect to the circle, but everybody knew Hibari's infamous opinion about crowds.

"Well, I will see tomorrow then." Tsuna whispered and forced himself to sleep.

The next afternoon afterschool, Tsuna, as usual, sat himself to the club meeting with a shonen jump, while his friends brought something out of the ordinary to entertain themselves, again—this is the daily life of the Home Tutor Syndrome club.

"What the hell Yamamoto," Gokudera's voice was dark. "You ask me to watch SAO last night. It was shit."

"Eh?" Yamamoto turned his head quizzically, digging his cosplay box and pulled out a wooden blade—which represented Kirito's sword in SAO.

"I mean, Accel World was better." Gokudera let a tongue out, laughing. "It has more scientific terms and more logical. I mean if you lose in the game and your brain got fried, where is the logic in that?"

"But SAO has swords," Yamamoto replied innocently. "I wonder if Kirito was part of the Yamamoto clan in the past."

"Stupid, that's 2026." Gokudera spat. "Now is 2008."

"He might be my grand, grand, grand, son."

"Shut up, TO-LOVE RU is the best."

"It was about aliens and _hentai_." Yamamoto rolled his eyes indignantly, disgusted.

"What is this about swords and hentai?" Ryohei's voice piped up.

His comrades' bickering went and out of his ears as the brunet flipped the pages of shonen jump and drowned himself into the Edolas arc. In the middle of his reading, a tiny, unfamiliar, flapping sound was detected. Tsuna tilted his head from the book, trying to find the source of the voice, and then he realized there's a yellow canary bird sitting right in front of him.

Tsuna, who wasn't fond of animals, grinned awkwardly. "Um…hello."

Tsuna gingerly reached his fingers to the little furball, as if the little herbivore will bite his flesh fingers. Suddenly, a high-pitched voice piped up out of nowhere.

"Reborn was right, you're dame-Tsuna, scared of animals. You're shit."

Tsuna immediately turned to his friends, expecting it to be either one of their voices. But the boys looked back at Tsuna awkwardly, eye widened.

"Tenth, what is that voice?" Gokudera was the first one to ask the obvious.

"Is that your phone Gokudera?"

"Like hell." Gokudera glared at him.

"That is a girl voice to the extreme." Ryohei gave his empty comment.

Then the same voice continued—sounding more edgy. "Man, so this is the fucking eight grade syndrome club created by dumbfuck Tsuna. I can't believe Reborn ask me to settle this shit."

The boys gulped inwardly at the amount of 'clean' words spitted out by whoever was speaking. Then they all trailed their eyes on the canary bird, who sat right in front of Tsuna.

"You just notice it's me, didn't you?"

"_The bird talks_!" A loud scream tore out of Tsuna's throat.

"Relax dammit." Hibird flapped its wings in a superior manner. "I can only speak thanks to Reborn. It's nice to say out my feelings once in a while, after all."

"Can you give us the explanation why did you curse so much?" Gokudera crossed his arms, eyes glued on the tiny canary bird with sheer hatred.

Meanwhile, Yamamoto and Ryohei chuckled at the irony.

"Well, I need to say it out once in a while," Hibird said. "It's none of your business, asshole."

Before Gokudera could retaliate, Yamamoto grabbed Gokudera's angry flailing arms before the silveret caused more fuss.

"So, what kind of business do you have with us to the extreme, little birdy?" Ryohei spoke calmly, crossing his arms.

Tsuna steeled his gaze to his upperclassman, who seemed to be calm about the idea of talking birds.

"I need your help," Hibird declared boldly. "Please help Kyoya-sama to join your group."

"Kyoya-sama?" Tsuna tilted his head, confused.

"Did you mean Hibari?" Ryohei presumed.

"Yes, Hibari Kyoya-sama," Hibird commented. "It's not like we have more than one Hibari, goddamit."

"_Hibari-san?!" _Tsuna yelped, stunned. He furiously scratched his head in extreme confusion.

Before anyone could comment, Hibird retreated to the window rear, preparing its departure.

"You will know when you go home this evening." Hibird turned to them. "Because Hibari-san was absent today."

As the little bird flew away through the window, the group of boys could only stared at the little bird in silence—whether it was because of Hibari's condition or the fact that a canary bird could speak; nobody could tell.

It was already evening and Tsuna, Gokudera and Yamamoto, as usual, walked home together. Ryohei was called by one of his ex-boxing members to hang out at the swimming club—even though Tsuna was convinced he'd no idea how someone like the upperclassman could swim really well…

"I need to restore my mana." Yamamoto groaned, stretching his arms. "Let's stop by somewhere."

"Well, you can go to your sushi restaurant, Yamamoto." Tsuna smiled warmly at his friend.

"I told you that place is just camouflage!" Gokudera protested.

"Well, if that place is hazardous," Yamamoto spoke in a way like reciting some kind of theory from his textbook. "Then the Uma's and aliens from space channel VII can immediately come to my place and destroy it. They have radars and everything, after all."

"It's space channel V!" Gokudera's eyes glowed offensively.

As they walked towards the path that leaded to Yamamoto's home, they heard a thunderous screech coming from the nearby alley.

The boys jumped, stared and switched glances to one another.

"Do you hear that?" Tsuna turned to Gokudera, eyes sharpened.

"It comes from that alley, back there." Yamamoto pointed towards the small, remote pathway right beside the public post light in front of them.

As the boys stared at one another and nodded, the three figures sprinted to the dark pathway, overcoming the fear that had slowly consumed them—but turning back right now was too late.

A few footsteps later, they saw some stains present on the walls surrounding the place.

Blood.

Tsuna yelped, but Gokudera covered the brunet's mouth before his voice could be detected by the shadows before them. They heard murmuring, deep voices coming from the darkness.

Suddenly, someone screamed.

Tsuna tightened his grip on Gokudera, and the silveret—who normally hates Yamamoto—clutched his fingers on Yamamoto's bigger ones. The baseball idiot turned to the silveret, grinning.

"That's not romantic, Gokudera."

"S-Shut up! I don't want any of us to die!" Gokudera yelled at him, face flushed.

"Hahahaha….you're scared." Yamamoto commented.

"Well, I'm gonna be the one who will kill you anyway!"

Before Yamamoto could respond to Gokudera's argument, they saw a flying body emerged from the darkness, flew passed them and crashed against the dirty walls. The man winced in pain, bruises swelling on his skin.

The three boys could only stare, gaping. They could only screamed inwardly, for words or noises couldn't describe how disturbed they were by the situation.

The fainted figure extended his arms pleadingly, eyes bloodshot towards Tsuna.

"Please…. go away…" his voice croaked, and passed out.

Gokudera cautiously crouched beside the man and touched his neck, and the silveret took a breath of relief.

"He's alive." Gokudera turned to Tsuna and Yamamoto, smiling weakly.

Then suddenly, a familiar, loud voice tore out from the darkness.

"_I told you I don't want to go back to that place anymore!"_

Tsuna—as cowardly he was—was the first one who sunk himself to the darkness.

Then he saw it.

Bodies, covered with bruises, spread across the alley. In the middle of the crowd, a sienna haired man stood there, breathing like a dragon; in his hands were a pair of tonfas.

"Hibari-san…" Tsuna's voice trembled, gulping.

Hibari turned, facing him. Tsuna's eyes slowly widened in shock—not because of the people he injured or the bloody stains in Hibari's shirt, but the beads of tears visible from his eyes—Hibari had been…crying?

"Herbivore." Hibari collapsed to his knees and passed out.

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**I don't mean to make Hibari OCC here, but I'm always wondering what kind of past Hibari has...**

**But oh well, we're just starting to go to the Hibari arch ^^ I'm not sorry for the violence.**

**Thank you ^^ stay tuned! **


	12. Lying Tears

**Sorry for the long hiatus! I'm gonna be busy because of my tests and other fanfic, so it might not be updated regularly :p**

**Please r&r ^^**

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The hot water spilled on his pants.

Tsuna yelped and Gokudera, who was attending Nana Sawada with washing the dishes, dropped his plates and ran to the shrieking brunet. Nana Sawada smiled, but grimaced when she laid her eyes on the silveret.

"Tenth, are you hurt?" Gokudera got to his knees and applied a small towel on Tsuna's pants, pressing it down gently.

"Umm…Gokudera, I'm fine." Tsuna hastily ushered the silveret to stand up. "Come on, it's gonna look weird if we stay like this."

Indeed it was. Gokudera face was right in front of Tsuna's zipper, and now the silveret was slowly unzipping the brunet's pants to wipe the burn on Tsuna's thigh. If anybody saw them like this—aside from Yamamoto and Ryohei—they would probably get the wrong idea, especially that herd of women that everyone called 'Fujioshi'.

Nana Sawada cleared her throat, startling the two boys as they jerked their heads to look at the older woman. Nana Sawada forced on her best smile.

"Well, I hate to interrupt." Nana rolled her eyes teasingly. "But I need you to check Hibari-kun. Is he okay?"

Tsuna and Gokudera grimaced. Two hours had passed, yet Hibari was still unconscious.

"Tenth, I think it's appropriate for you to check on Hibari now." Gokudera's eyes were downcast as he frowned.

Tsuna really wanted to snap at his self-proclaimed right hand man for looking like that, but Tsuna smiled anyway.

"Alright, Gokudera. I'll be back."

Tsuna made his way to the guest room where Hibari was kept. He swiftly passed Yamamoto and Ryohei, who were giggling at a reality show airing on the television—Tsuna never really found it funny.

When the brunet was in front of the guestroom, he knocked on the door just to make sure if the prefect was already awake. Not receiving a response, Tsuna opened the door and tiptoed into the darkness.

Even in the dark, he could see the lump on his bed.

Tsuna was not an expert in medicine or first aid, but he took a basin right beside the bed and cupped a handful of water. Then, he carefully poured it on Hibari's bruised forehead; the cold water trickled on Hibari's pillow. Hibari turned, grunting. Tsuna jerked, rubbing his hair in frustration; Tsuna really didn't know how to treat sick people.

"I don't wanna…"

Tsuna blinked once, twice. He was sure he'd heard the familiar voice somewhere. Then he noticed Hibari's parting lips, shaking and twitching in an uneasy manner. Assuming it was Hibari's voice, the brunet leaned closer to the sleeping male, trying to listen for Hibari's heartbeat.

"Sawada…Tsunayoshi."

Tsuna widened his eyes, pulling backwards. His heart raced against his chest. Soon Hibari's eyes shot open and Tsuna bit back a scream.

"Where am I?" Hibari's voice was cracked.

Tsuna opened and closed his mouth. He looked at Hibari, who was trying to understand what was going on. Hibari's tired gaze steeled when his eyes fell on Tsuna.

Tsuna, gulping, could only stare down at the grumpy male helplessly. Hibari could attack Tsuna any time if he wanted to since his infamous silver tonfas were hidden under his jacket. Tsuna thought about what to say carefully, as if one wrong word could unleash the beast from its cage.

"You collapsed," Tsuna said slowly. "My friends and I were just passing by and we decided to treat you…or something like that."

Tsuna's words didn't ease the tension. Actually, he thought they made things worse.

Grunting, Hibari tossed the covers away, groggily getting up to his sitting position. He looked like he was in deep pain, and sheer concern flashed on Tsuna's eyes. The brunet was just about to sink to his knees to help the prefect before Hibari slapped his hands away indignantly.

"Don't let your dirty hands touch me, herbivore," Hibari spat, glowering at him.

"Herbivore or whatever, you're not vulnerable right now." Tsuna was surprised by the way he spoke, but held his ground.

Blinking, Hibari let out a dry chuckle. "You're arrogant, Tsunayoshi."

"I'm just stating a fact," Tsuna said and sat on the bed beside Hibari.

Hibari didn't seem to mind. Instead, he let out a long

"Herbivore, I need to stand." Hibari turned his head away pointedly, a faint shade of red on his cheeks.

Tsuna chuckled inwardly. Carefully, the brunet got up from his seat and helped Hibari up as carefully as he can. It was a slow process—the prefect constantly winced, scaring the brunet to make another move. Around five minutes later, Hibari had successfully stood up on his feet.

Tsuna rolled his eyes. "My mom treated your wounds and she wasn't too happy about them. Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

Hibari's eyes slightly widened. He quickly regained his composure and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm leaving."

"You took five minutes just to stand," Tsuna snapped. For some reason, the prefect's stubborn attitude kind of pissed him off; it was rare for a Namimori student – or anyone in that matter - to stand up against Hibari. In this case, it was Dame-Tsuna versus the blood-lust prefect—oh, the irony.

Tsuna walked out of the room to get Hibari's porridge. His mom should be done by now.

After Tsuna's steps faded, the prefect forced every muscle in his body so he could walk. He tightened his grip on every object he passed by to lessen the pain and regain his balance. After ten minutes, the soreness in his muscles toned down and he was able to walk without too much strain.

The prefect wasn't inclined to stay longer, but he needed to at least thank Tsuna and his friends for their hospitality. Well, maybe staying here for the night wouldn't be a bad idea after all. If he spent the whole evening buried under the sheets without talking to anyone, Hibari wouldn't have a problem staying overnight in the Sawada household; but judging from Tsuna's pushy and charitable personality, he doubted that the brunet would leave him alone. His stomach slightly churned, but it's not like he had a choice…

_It's better to stay than going home__,_Hibari thought.

Suddenly, he remembered.

The book. Misty Pineapple.

Cursing inwardly, he increased his pace and started digging through the sheets frantically. The raven-haired male bit his lip and beads of sweat dripped from his forehead. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his book lying on the table opposite of his bed.

But then, Hibari froze.

The book was opened.

Blushing vehemently, Hibari snatched the book and quickly scanned the content. It was the page with the lonely, cold-hearted vampire. He slaughtered and drank the blood from his loved ones; however, he did this to protect them from the destruction that would come: the end of the world.

The vampire had no friends, but he had loyal followers who he saw as nothing but blood-lust troops. Together, the vampire saw the weak as his prey and he would bite them to death to eliminate them from the world. As time passed, his goal to protect that people had melted into his own selfish ambitions—to make the whole world bow before him and accept him as its ruler…

Indeed, Hibari was familiar with this chapter; it was his favorite part of the book. As stupid as it sounded, Hibari understood the vampire and empathized with it.

He felt…human.

Hibari's brows furrowed. How could someone coincidentally open this chapter of the book? But then he remembered the bookmark he placed on this page. Hibari slapped his face.

With nothing else better to do, Hibari slipped onto a chair and trained his eyes on the book before him. He flipped the page, continuing where he left off…

"_But then one day, a bright light flashed before the vampire's eyes. A kind, familiar voice called out to him, but the vampire ignored it and cursed at his blindness. For a few days without his sight, the vampire lost control of his troops, and soon his clan diverged and the vampire was left with nothing. Nothing… So this was loneliness."_

Usually Hibari would be amused whenever he read this part, but for some reason, the more he read, the more the bile rose in his throat.

Without reading any further, Hibari knew how the story would end, for he read this book a hundred times. But instead of rereading it like he used to, he closed the book shut and clenched the hem of his shirt.

"It's tough when old wounds reopen, huh?"

Hibari turned to see Reborn sitting on the opposite side of the bed. Smirking, the baby hit man slurped his coffee.

"Oh you the infant," Hibari said weakly. Usually, the prefect would jump in his battle pose and be ready to fight, but his muscles wouldn't cooperate.

"Well, I want to ask you one last question." Reborn's eyebrows arched amusingly. "Are you ready for the final chapter?"


End file.
